


I 















I 





















































0 


































































mint 




p ^J^fjlLjl r if lilj i[iM;W«| 



mm& vmM 

;!|yi4 ' 1 ' '^pW||M|H 



wM§W i yi&jM 



Mlwv 

MfW r ^gS* 

mkw Bi 


MpK^s 

JraraSwrog\i'ir\> j • nidff 

u - :; ! m 

SliP^''" l jPlP /Y ' M “ A\ 


sp 


uh!J/!Hf* • .‘ft sM!Jl//ffli in' £nS fliilll 

wfihw <Hmm 


mk ' ,Jli 

wMM^miim 
WrniiW a ■'&' r M 

( a rjjMBl 


THE DEVII, S BRIDGE : ROUTE OF ST. GOTHARD 



















FROM LONDON BRIDGE 

TO LOMBARDY 

BY A MACADAMISED ROUTE. 


nv 


a 

W. R. RICHARDSON . 


1 


0 


O' 


“It was impossible to go into Society without meeting units, tens, 
hundreds, thousands of Rhenish tourists—travellers in Ditchland, and 
in Deutchland : people who had seen Nimagen, and Nim-Again—who 
had been at Cologne, and at Koeln, and at Colon—at Cob-Longs and 
Coblence—at Swang Gwar and at Saint Go-er—at Bonn—at Bone, 
and at Bong!” 

Thomas Hood. 


LONDON: 

SAMPSON LOW, SON, AND MARSTON, 

CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET. 

1869. 


[All Rights Reserved .] 














LONDON: PRINTKD BY W. CLOAVKS AND SON'S, STAMFORD STIU.KT AND CHARING CROSS 


C O N T E N T S. 


CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

Departure—Ostend — Bruges—Ghent — Electric Clocks — 

St. Bavon— Hotel de Ville—- Mad Margery—Beguinage— 

A Religious Procession—Sunday in Ghent—Brussels— 
Promenade Concert—Wauxhall—St. Gudule—Chamber 
of Representatives—Hotel de Ville — Market Place — 
Palais de Justice—Museum—Armoury—Les Anglais at 
the Bellevue. f 


CHAPTER II. 

Waterloo—Hougomont—The Belgian Lion—The “ Fiend 
of Waterloo” — A Belgian Artist’s Atelier — Teaching a 
Swede English—Antwerp Cathedral—St. Jacques—Do¬ 
minican Church — St. Peter and the Cock—The burnt 
Bourse—Return to Brussels — Departure for Cologne— 
Inspection of Passports—Insect Bedfellows—My Dutch 
Friend—A Rifle Match—A Crinoline Disaster—Aix-la- 
Chapelle—Cologne Cathedral—St. Peter's . . 19 

CHAPTER III. 

Up the Rhine—Konigswinter—German Coverlets—Ascent 
of the Drachenfels — German Lovers — A Drachenfels 
Breakfast — Rolandseck — Coblentz — Casino — German 
Courtesy and Gig-lamps—Stolzenfels—List Slippers— 

The French Monument—Sayn Castle—An Intoxicated 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Coachman — Ems — Crinoline again — A Small German 
Family — The Lurlei Echo — Pfalz Castle — Bingen — A 
Bachelor’s Trials—Barking Curs and Military Music—■ 
Wiesbaden—German Idiosyncracies . . . -43 

CHAPTER IV. 

Wiesbaden to Frankfort—A British Bagman—Expedition 
in Search of Beer—Lost at Frankfort—A Wet Night— 
Heidelberg — Table d’Hote—Students—A Night Visit 
to the Castle—A Night’s Rest at Heidelberg—Frightening 
a Frenchman—Baden-Baden—The Old Castle—Singular 
Notice—Dungeons of the New Castle—German Polite¬ 
ness—Freiburg—A Freiburg Umbrella—Soaking Day— 
Freiburg to Schaffhausen via the Valley of Hell—Sin¬ 
gular Reception at the-The Rhine Falls . . 65 

CHAPTER V. 

Daylight Impressions of Schaffhausen—The Falls of the 
Rhine — Scanty Attendance at Table d’Hote — On the 
Rhine again—Lake of Constance—St. Gall—St. Gall to 
Ragatz—A Friendly Greeting—Hof Ragatz—Swarms of 
English Tourists—The Gorge of the Tamina—Baths of 
Ffaffers—Lost at Coire—Coire to Tusis—An Awkward 
Intrusion—Tusis to Splugen—The Via Mala—The Splu- 
gen Pass—Fall of the Madesimo—Beggars—Chiavenna 
—Chiavenna to Colico—Beggarly Reception—Como— 
Camerlata to Milan—Thence to Venice—Night “ Effect” 90 

CHAPTER VI. 

Venice—Doge’s Palace — Dens for the Enemies of the 
Republic — Bridge of Sighs — The Jesuits’ Church — 
Palazzo Giovannelli — Cafe Florian — The Pigeons — 
Madame Ristori—A Street Fight—Church of St. Mark 
—The Frari Church—Divers—Austrian Compliments— 
Table d’Hote—Milan again—The Cathedral—The Brera 
—Arco della Pace—Scala—Capolago—Lugano—Luino 
—Passport demanded—Magadino—A “Scene” at the 
Inn.115 






CONTENTS. 


v 


CHAPTER VII. 

PAGE 

Attempt to infringe the Agreement — Reappearance of 
Mephistopheles—Faido—Fall of the Piumegna—Airolo 
—The Val Tremola—“ Suwarrow Victor ”■—Change in 
the Temperature—Arrival at Hospenthal—Exasperating 
German—Cataract of the Reuss—Devil’s Bridge—Defile 
of Schellinen—Altdorf— Fluellen—-Arrival at Lucerne— 

The Righi—Thorwaldsen’s Lion . . . . . 137 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Lucerne to Berne—Importance of Early Attendance at 
Continental Railway Stations—Museum at Berne—The 
Clock Tower — The Bears — Cathedral and Statue of 
Erlach—Fountain—English Church Service—Women of 
Berne—View from the “Platform”—Freyburg—Vevay— 
Castle of Chillon—Villeneuve—Bex—Fall of the Sal- 
lenche—Arrival at Martigny—Pass of the Tete Noir— 
Chamouni . ..155 


CHAPTER IX. 

A Wet Day—-The Montanvert—Crossing the Glacier — 

The Mauvais Pas — Adventurous Ladies — Glacier de 
Bossons—Cascades Pelerins and Dard—A Faint-hearted 
Tourist—High Life below Stairs—Flegere—Departure of 
a Party for Mont Blanc—Chamouni to Geneva. . .171 

CHAPTER X. 

Geneva—Lyons—French Soldiers and French Hats—Re¬ 
volutionary Memories of Lyons—Dijon—Soldiers again— 

The Ducal Palace — The Museum —“ Messieurs les Voya- 
geurs, preparez vos Billets l” . 188 





INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 



n - the clays when our re¬ 
spected forefathers and 
foremothers went on 
their travels; when, as 
poor, suffering, inva¬ 
lided Smollett quaintly 
tells us, the diligence 
from Paris to Lyons—“a 
journey of about three 
hundred and sixty miles” 
—took five long weary 
days to reach its desti¬ 
nation ; when the said forefathers and foremothers 
“ were crowded into the carriage to the number of 
eight persons, so as to sit very uneasy, and some¬ 
times run the risk of being stifled among very in¬ 
different companywhen, during the course of 

































Vlll 


INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER . 


their journey, they were u hurried out of bed at 
four, three—nay, often at two o’clock in the 
morningwhen the very passports they carried 
descended to personal, but scarcely flattering, 
details; and their height, hair, eyebrows, eyes, 



complexions, were duly described and registered 
therein,* a continental journey was a very serious 
and formidable aflFair indeed. So serious an un¬ 
dertaking was it considered that, like the grand 

* 1 he author has one of these curious documents before 
him, in which a special column is reserved for these minute 
details. 























INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 


IX 


army of Napoleon, it was designated, par excel¬ 
lence^ the grand tour; and none but persons of 
means and acknowledged position could venture 
to entertain it. The adventurous traveller having, 
after many serious family consultations, at length 
made up his mind, resigned himself to the tender 
mercies of his medical attendant; and after 
having been duly u blooded,” the family lawyer 
next made his appearance on the scene, and our 
viator having settled his affairs and executed the 
tremendous testamentary document of the period 
—which, while it consigned his soul to “ Him 
who gave it,” at the same time informed an as¬ 
tonished world, “ in the name of God, Amen!” 
that the testator was “ of sound mind, memory, 
and understanding”—committed himself to the 
unknown dangers of the route, very much in the 
spirit with which a modern African traveller ven¬ 
tures upon the perils and vicissitudes incident to 
a journey to Ashango Land. Now, however,— 
nous avons changi tout cela —and with the assist¬ 
ance of an occasional mule or diligence, steam 
carries us all the way from London Bridge to 
Lombardy. What wonder then that the “ grand 
tour ” has exchanged its very name for that of “a 
visit to the Continentand that the happiness of 
“ Mr. ’Arry Belville, Banker,” is incomplete until 

b 










X 


INTR OB UCTOR Y CHARTER, 


he has visited Bong , and written his distinguished 
autograph on the battered walls of Hougomont. 

The route from London Bridge to Lombardy 
is a well-worn one. In many places it has been 
deeply indented by the wheels of those who 
have preceded me, and Murray’s broad wagon- 
wheels in particular have made such deep impres¬ 
sions that I have found it sometimes difficult to 
prevent my own lighter vehicle falling into the 
ruts with which the road is traversed. I have 
endeavoured, however, to avoid, as far as possible, 
the tracks left by others ; my aim and purpose 
throughout this sketch being —not to relate what 
is to be seen (which has already been done by 
writers of infinitely greater powers than my own), 
but to give a plain and simple account of what I 
actually did, and what I personally saw. Whilst 
endeavouring to do this to the best of my poor 
ability, without becoming irksome either to the 
travelled or untravelled reader, I have been es¬ 
pecially careful to avoid “ generalizing,” as Moses 
Marble has it, thus: 

“ Thereafter, away to the Duke’s Museum, 
a very characteristic olla podrida of everything, 
like the German meal aforesaid : to wit, Roman 
antiquities (remember the fine marine chimera 
tesselated pavement) mingled with South Sea 






INTR 01) UCTOR Y CHAPTER. 


xi 


Island curiosities; a collection of arms and ar¬ 
mour, alternating with one of needlework and 
wax portraits; enamels, ivories, and majolica 
ware, next to models of ruins, and Chinese mon¬ 
sters ; prints and deinotherium bones; skeletons 
and cameos; in fact, everything higgledy-pig- 
gledy.” 

Now, I confess that I admire this, like I do 
Pre-Raphaelism, not because I understand it— 
which I certainly do not—but because it is so 
deliciously eccentric, so refreshingly original. I 
am fairly startled to find a German, or, indeed, 
any meal, a characteristic olla podrida of Roman 
antiquities mingled with South Sea Island curiosi¬ 
ties—the latter being introduced, I presume, by 
way of sauce piquante , to add zest and flavour to 
the dainty but antique dish ; I laugh, too, as I 
witness the frantic but futile efforts of the poor 
parenthesis to extricate itself from the mysterious 
jumble of chimeras, pavements, wax portraits, 
skeletons, majolica, Chinese monsters, and deino- 
theriums, amongst which it has so imprudently 
intruded itself. 

But Shakspeare says, “ use every man after his 
desert, and who shall ’scape whipping ! ,,# It 
must not be supposed for an instant, that in 


Hamlet. 







INTR OD UCTOR Y CHAPTER . 


xii 

giving the above extract I seek to elevate myself 
at the expense of another—and that other possibly 
my intellectual superior. I hasten to disclaim any 
such ungenerous intention. Alas! kind reader, 
I am duly sensible of my own shortcomings; and 
fear that—like the Dean who tried to write English 
—I may chance to find I have unwittingly in¬ 
truded myself into a hornet’s nest, and rendered 
myself liable to be assailed with innumerable 
stings. In spite, however, of my demerits, let me 
ask you to remember that “the less [/] deserve, 
the more merit is in your bounty.* 


Hamlet. 













MACADAMISED ROUTE* 



c 



o 























FROM LONDON BRIDGE 
TO LOMBARDY. 


CHAP T E R I. 


Departure — Ostend — Bruges—Ghent — Electric Clocks — St. 
Bavon—Hotel de Ville — Mad Margery—Bcguinage — A 
Religious Procession—Sunday in Ghent—Brussels — Pro¬ 
menade Concert—Wauxhall—St. Gudule—Chamber of Re¬ 
presentatives— Hotel de Ville — Market Place—Palais de 
J ustice—Museum—Armoury—Les Anglais at the Bellevue. 



The forgotten articles are for 

*4 


AM the owner 
of a wretched 
memory, and 
usually con¬ 
trive, miserable 
man that I am, 
to leave some 
of my belong¬ 
ings behind me 
in the hurry 
and excitement 
of departure, 
the most part 

B 














































2 


DEPARTURE. 


Chap. I. 


“ necessaries,” even in a legal point of view, and 
vary in their nature from an umbrella to a tooth¬ 
brush. It was not till my arrival at the station 
of the South-Eastern Railway, on the afternoon 
of the 30th of July, 18—, that I discovered I 
had left my umbrella (a recent purchase) calmly 
reposing, cum multis aliis , within the stand of the 
Tavistock. A considerable distance intervened 
between London Bridge and that hostelry; but 
cabby, instigated by the promise of guerdon, 
accomplished the return journey in an incon¬ 
ceivably short space of time, and restored my 
neglected friend and protector to my arms, to be 
lost again—alas! for ever—in a foreign land. 

The platform of an Anglo-continental rail¬ 
way station prior to the starting of a train is a 
scene of bustle and confusion wonderful to wit¬ 
ness. Foreign gentlemen, bristling with mus¬ 
taches of preposterous length, and the lustrous 
blackness attributable to the agency of hair-dye, 
were hurrying to and fro, entangling themselves 
with excited Englishmen, and almost throwing 
themselves beneath Juggernauts of luggage 
driven by infuriated and perspiring porters. The 
beard movement had not then developed itself 
among us to the alarming extent it has since 
attained; and Young England, half afraid and 






Chap. I. 


DEPARTURE. 


3 


half ashamed to confess a weakness for mustaches, 
was obliged to cultivate them in a surreptitious 
sort of way, and plead a continental journey as 
an excuse for the bristling and unwonted appear¬ 
ance it presented to inquiring and anxious friends. 
Several young gentlemen in this incipient state of 
hirsuteness were yelling themselves hoarse on the 



subject of missing portmanteaus; and the prevail¬ 
ing confusion was rendered worse confounded by 
the clanging of the huge bell, the slamming of 
carriage doors, and the hoarse tones of the guard 
begging the passengers to take their seats, and 
requesting, in an injured tone, to be informed 
whether any more were “ going on." At length 

B 2 


* 






4 


DEPARTURE . 


Chap. T. 


the Babel of voices and noise was hushed, and I 
found myself en route for Dover. In my carriage 
were two ladies bound for Rhenish Bonn, to 
which place they told me they were travelling 
without stopping; a somewhat longer journey 
than I should like to take in pursuit of pleasure. 

At 11 o’clock p.m. I crossed the plank of the 
wretched dirty little tub which was destined to bear 
me to Ostend. It being part of the implied con¬ 
tract between her owners and myself that I should 
arrive there about 5 a.m., my first duty was to 
institute a search after the sleeping accommo¬ 
dation provided for passengers. I found the 
cabin bordered on either side by a double row 
of cushions, bristling with highly exasperated 
horsehair, the intermediate space being occupied 
by arm-chairs and stools ad libitum. I en¬ 
sconced myself on the upper row of the horse¬ 
hair perches, a position I was provident enough 
to retain all night. On this most uncomfortable 
couch sleep was somewhat difficult of attainment. 
For some time I contemplated the cabin ceiling 
with sleepless interest, and endeavoured to cal¬ 
culate to my mental satisfaction the relative dis¬ 
tance between it and my nasal organ. Such 
calculations are in their nature soporific, and I 
fell asleep long before I had solved the deeply 






Chap. I. 


DEPARTURE . 


5 


interesting problem. At times my slumbers were 
interrupted by the rain dashing against the cabin 
lights, and the agonies of my suffering fellow- 
passengers, many of whom lay prostrate beneath 
in various postures, all more or less suggestive of 
misery. In spite of these melancholy interrup¬ 
tions I descended from my perch, soon after day¬ 



break, decidedly refreshed by my broken slumbers; 
and arrived on deck, stumbled over a roll of furs 
and shawls, which on closer inspection proved to 
be my lady fellow-passengers bound for Bonn, 
who had preferred to brave the elements during 
the whole of the wet and cheerless night, rather 
than breathe the unsavoury atmosphere of the 
stifling smelly cabin. 





6 


OSTEND. 


Chap. I- 


My landing at Ostend was opposed by a fierce 
and truculent-looking officer, who demanded my 
passport, a document for the most part now happily 
almost superfluous. Having complied with his 
demand, the formidable policeman allowed me to 
44 move on,” and I passed from his dreaded presence 
into that of the custom-house authorities, in whose 
custody I discovered my portmanteau, the inte¬ 
rior of which they expressed themselves anxious 
to inspect. My experience of the continental 
douaniers prompts me to bear testimony to their 
politeness and courtesy. There were exceptions, 
of course; but as a rule I found that with ordi¬ 
nary good temper on the part of the traveller 
himself, and a disposition to assist them in dis¬ 
charging their really unpleasant duties, these 
officers were disposed to give as little trouble and 
inconvenience as may be. 

Leaving the recovery of my passport to a 
tout, or, as he more euphoniously styled himself, 
44 commissionaire ” of the Hotel des Bains , I ad¬ 
journed to that place of entertainment, and having 
washed, shaved, and breakfasted, employed the 
two hours which remained to me, in a round of 
sight-seeing. I visited the works designated by 
Belgian military authorities the fortifications of 
Ostend, and proceeded, after the manner of an 




Chap. I 


OSTEND 


7 


inquiring Briton, to examine the calibre of the 
guns. Whether the fierce artilleryman on guard 
fancied that I viewed them in a depreciatory 
manner, I know not; but he rudely put an end to 



all further contemplation on my part, by driving 
me from the spot, with drawn sword and a panto¬ 
mimic gesture significant of murder. I passed a 
regiment of soldiers at morning parade, neat, 




























8 


BR UGES. 


Chap. I. 


well-made men enough ; and visited two churches, 
in neither of which I saw anything which particu¬ 
larly interested me; and after a good deal of mutual 
staring on the part of myself and the natives, left 
Ostend by the midday train for Bruges. 

I exceedingly regret that I did not give myself 
an entire day to this fine mediaeval town. Un¬ 
fortunately for myself, I had made the acquaint¬ 
ance of some cockney tourists on their way to 
the Rhenish wine districts, whither they were bound 
on a visit of business with pleasure combined. In 
the company of these industrious and highly prac¬ 
tical persons I paraded the streets of Bruges, 
where paving is unknown, to the great discomfort 
of a highly susceptible corn. The rough hard 
pitching is truly trying to unaccustomed feet, but 
habit is second nature, and the inhabitants tripped 
along in an aggravatingly easy manner, as if the 
misery and inconvenience of corns were quite un¬ 
known to them. In a rapid course of sight-seeing 
we visited, among other places, the cathedral of 
St. Sauveur, which is externally ugly, but hand¬ 
some within ; the church of Notre-Dame, note¬ 
worthy for its elaborately-carved and elegant 
pulpit, and the monuments of the departed great 
of Flanders; the Hotel de Ville, and the Academy 
of Paintings. I think it was at this last place that 





Chap. I. 


BR UGES. 


9 


I noticed a picture, representing some unhappy 
victim undergoing the punishment of being flayed 
alive. The painting was horribly well done : the 
clenched teeth and writhing flesh of the tortured 
wretch, and .the fiendish glee of his executioners, 
have often since recurred to me, and will never 
indeed be entirely forgotten. 

There is a painfully-deserted look about 
Bruges—an indescribable something which seems 
to speak to us of departed prosperity ; and Words¬ 
worth’s description of this interesting though me¬ 
lancholy town is strangely true : 

“ In Bruges town is many a street 
Whence busy life hath fled ; 

Where, without hurry, noiseless feet 
The grass grown pavement tread.” 

Sight-seeing, when undertaken in a methodical 
and business-like manner, is, at the best of times, 
a fatiguing and hungry employment. After a 
hard day’s work, our wearied party at length 
halted at the Fleur de Ble , where we were most 
hospitably and satisfactorily entertained. The 
officers of the cuirassiers messed in the apartment 
which adjoined our dining-room, and, judging by 
the mirthful sounds which reached us through 
the opened windows, they seemed to be holding 
high festival. For companionship sake, I was per- 




IO 


GHENT 


Chap. I. 


suaded to accompany my fellow-tourists to their 
next halting-place; and after having spent five 
somewhat fatiguing hours at Bruges, the train 
whirled us away to Gand, or (as we call it) Ghent, 
where, at the very excellent and hospitable Hotel 
de la Poste , I found rest for my wearied limbs. 

Although 
Ghent does not 
present the same 
deserted appear¬ 
ance as Bruges, 
it too has de¬ 
clined, and the 
days are (hap¬ 
pily) passed by 
when, according 
to Murray, it 
could furnish its 
80,000 fighting 
men. The Gan- 
dese would seem to have run mad on the subject 
oi electric clocks, for one of these useful machines 
was to be found at nearly every corner. Assu¬ 
ming that these articles keep good time, which I 
presume it is the very essence of their nature to 
do, the citizens must find it wholly unnecessary 
to encumber themselves with watches. 
















Chap. I. 


ST. BA VON. 


11 


I have no idea of encumbering my pages or 
taking up the readers time with a detailed de¬ 
scription of the lions of Gand. In the face of 
Murray’s scarlet-clad handbooks, which may be 
said to have exhausted the subject, it would be 
simply presumptious on my part to do so. Un¬ 
like the rabid order of tourists, who exhaust all 
their energies in ferreting out the lions of each 
continental town they honour with their patro¬ 
nage, I looked for those only which I understood 
would best repay a visit. The traveller should 
not forget that sight-seeing should be made a 
pleasure, and never a business. The particular 
objects of interest which have left any permanent 
impression on my memory shall be very briefly 
enumerated. First, the cathedral church of 
St. Bavon, with its lining of black marble, its 
twenty-four chapels, hung with paintings of fabu¬ 
lous value, only one of which however I can 
now distinctly remember; it was the work of 
Rubens, and represented St. Bavon, the patron 
saint, renouncing a soldier’s life for the monkish 
cowl. I also noted here the tall and massive 
copper candelabra, standing in front of the altar, 
once the property of our Charles I., but sold for 
valuable consideration to the city of Ghent by 
that stern old ironside, Oliver Cromwell; the 






THE BEGUWAGE. 


Chap. I. 


I 2 


Hotel de Ville; the market-place, with its quaint 
old Spanish houses, suggestive of the butcher 
Alva and his cruel reign of terror; old “ Mad 
Margery,” the huge iron cannon hard by, a twin 
sister to old “Meg” at Edinburgh, but here 
crammed away out of sight, in a villanously 
dirty neighbourhood, redolent of the most ill- 



favoured and unsavoury smells; and, lastly, the 
Beguinage, or nunnery, with its pictures and em¬ 
broidery. 

I attended vespers at the chapel of the Begui¬ 
nage at a later period of the day, when the whole 
sisterhood were present, some five or six hundred 
strong. They looked very picturesque in their 
long black robes and white veils. As far as I 









Chap. I. A RELIGIOUS PROCESSION. 


could judge some of the novices had pretty faces, 
but as they quickly covered them at my approach 
I hazard the statement with considerable diffi¬ 
dence. On my way from the nunnery I threaded 
a succession of narrow streets, decorated with 



flags, streamers, and flowers; and on inquiry 
learnt that a religious procession was about to 
pass. Imagining that this might be worth seeing 
I took my station among the crowd at the door 
of the church whence the procession was expected 
to issue. After waiting a long time the doors 
opened, and some clean pretty-faced children 























































14 


A RELIGIOUS PROCESSION. Chap. I. 


sallied forth ; they were followed by a few closely- 
shaven monks, droning forth a lugubrious and 
nasal chant to the accompaniment of a trom¬ 
bone. The host came last, and as soon as this 
appeared the multitude, with few exceptions, 
prostrated themselves on their marrow-bones. A 
stiff-necked Belgian bystander whispered in my 
heretic and astonished ear his disapproval and 
contempt of the whole thing. Recollecting, 
however, that I was in a Catholic country I 
shrugged my shoulders and passed on. 

After witnessing this interesting and improv¬ 
ing spectacle I continued my walk by the canal 
side, and, guided by some musical sounds which 
proceeded from a house having all the appearance 
ol a place of entertainment, I entered and found 
myself in a large and lofty saloon, not unlike one 
of the second-class dancing-rooms common in 
London some ten or fifteen years ago. A great 
number of persons of the artizan class were here 
assembled, and with their sweethearts and wives 
were footing it merrily to the most execrable 
music it has ever been my misfortune to hear. 
It was— 

u “ a sound that seemed to wear 
The semblance of a tune : 

As if a broken fife should strive 
To drown a cracked bassoon.” 






Chap. I. 


SUNDA V IN GHENT. 




It was Sunday evening, and here was a fair spe¬ 
cimen of the way in which our continental con¬ 
temporaries contrive to spend it. It is within the 
bounds of possibility that my Sabbatarian and low- 
church friends may consider that the day might 
have been more profitably and improvingly spent, 
both by myself and the Gandese. 

Next day I took a parting promenade in and 
about Ghent; and, after the early table d'hote , 
left that interesting town for the capital. At the 
Brussels station I was delighted to meet again 
with my portmanteau, which I had forwarded 
hither from Ostend, and had suffered much in 
convenience for want of it; as it contained, among 
other necessaries and conveniences, a pet razor, 
without which shaving had degenerated into a 
painful scarification. A comfortable entre-sol 
was allotted to me in the Hotel Bellevue , from 
the window whereof I obtained a view of the park 
and a great portion of that noble street—the Rue 
Royale. 

Finding there was to be a military concert at 
the Zoological Gardens I wended my way thither 
in the evening. The fashionables of both sexes 
were assembled in considerable numbers, and one 
of the regimental bands performed very creditably. 
The gardens were well laid out, but contained 



BR USSELS. 


Chap. I. 


16 


only a small collection of animals. The centre 
of attraction to the nursemaids and their charges 
was two beautiful polar bears, which were impri¬ 
soned in a large and roomy den containing a 
miniature cascade tumbling over some artificial 
rock-work, over which the bears gambolled and 
rolled into the pool beneath. They, poor brutes, 
appeared to be fairly reconciled to their fate, and 
enjoyed themselves quite as much as bears might 
be expected to do under such circumstances. 
The concert over, 1 strolled into the Wauxhall 
garden, a well-wooded and shady retreat, enlivened 
by a cheerful company of ladies and gentlemen, 
and the splendid orchestra of the Royal Opera. 

Sight-seeing commenced in earnest on the 
morrow. I first paid a visit to the church of 
St. Gudule, now chiefly remembered by me for 
its carved pulpit, and the beauty of its stained- 
glass windows. The pulpit was truly an elaborate 
work; the carving which adorned it represented 
Adam and Eve being ejected from Paradise, death 
following closely in their footsteps. The painted 
windows in the church are really superb, and one 
in the St. Sacrament chapel is said to be the most 
exquisite in Europe. Thence to the Chamber of 
Representatives; and then to the Hotel de Ville, 
memorable for its beautiful Gothic spire, the 




Chap. I. 


BRUSSELS. 


l 7 


market-place in front calling to my recollection 
the tragic fate of Counts Egmont and Horn, who 
both suffered in this very place. In the Palais de 
Justice I noticed two fine paintings: one represent¬ 
ing Charles the Fifth resigning his crown in favour 
of his worthy son ; the other, u Les Geux ” append¬ 
ing their signatures to that celebrated protest of 
theirs against Spanish bigotry and misrule, which 
subsequently brought upon them the vengeance of 
the brutal Alva. I next paid a visit to the mu¬ 
seum, containing, among many other works, a 
series of paintings attributed to Rubens; and then 
to the armoury museum, which interested me 
greatly, as it included among its relics some of 
the helmets worn by our dragoons at Waterloo. 

The five o’clock table d'hote was patronized 
chiefly by English travellers; and a family of 
compatriots had established themselves at the 
head of the table. They were exceedingly plain, 
but probably were persons of position ; at least 
they evidently thought so, for they maintained 
a dignified and impressive reserve, and exercised 
a decidedly refrigerating effect on those in their 
immediate vicinity. The conversation, as might 
have been expected, was decidedly English in 
tone and character, and I found myself the in¬ 
voluntary listener to some persons who, to my 



18 LES ANGLAIS AT THE BELLE VUE. Ch. I. 


great amusement, were engaged in an animated 
discussion touching the presumption of the then 
Lady Mayoress, who, at some aristocratic enter¬ 
tainment, had been guilty of the unpardonable 
offence of appropriating to herself a place of 
honour reserved for the use of some other and 
more distinguished lady. The parties engaged 
took opposite sides of the question, and the point 
under discussion remained a moot one, for, strange 
to relate, the disputants could not agree. 




( i9 ) 


CHAPTER II. 

Waterloo — Hougomont — The Belgian Lion — The “Fiend of 
Waterloo”—A Belgian Artist’s Atelier—Teaching a Swede 
English — Antwerp Cathedral — St. Jacques— Dominican 
Church — St. Peter and the Cock—The burnt Bourse — 
Return to Brussels —Departure for Cologne—Inspection of 
Passports—Insect Bedfellows—My Dutch Friend—A Rifle 
Match — A Crinoline Disaster — Aix-la-Chapelle — Cologne 
Cathedral—St. Peter’s. 



HORTLY af¬ 
ter nine o’clock 
the next morn¬ 
ing I heard the 
cornet, which 
announced to 
me the depar¬ 
ture of the 
coach for 
W a t e r 1 o o. 
The reveille 
consisted of the complimentary air of u The 
Fine Old English Gentleman,” so curiously 


C 2 














20 


WATERLOO. 


Chap. II. 


disguised with foreign variations that it was 
difficult to recognize that most venerable per¬ 
sonage in his Belgian dress. I found the trumpeter 
out of temper, a state of things which might 
perhaps have accounted for his eccentric solo; 
and although I had been waiting for the coach 
some time, and certainly lost none in obeying the 
summons, he looked at me in an injured manner, 
and requested me to hasten my movements. 
With the assistance of this mistaken individual 
I now mounted the coach, which I found already 
laden with a cargo of Englishmen. The vehicle 
was driven by a red-faced fellow-countryman, 
who seemed unaccountably to labour under the 
same delusion as the trumpeter; for much to my 
surprise, and somewhat to my indignation, he 
also pointedly reproved me for keeping him 
waiting so long. 

Surely the highway which leads to Waterloo 
must have been constructed by French con¬ 
tractors free of expense, as a consolatory offering 
to the shades of the “ Old Guard.” The road 
may be said to be divided into two portions—the 
one half being pitched, the other macadamised. 
I cannot well conceive anything better adapted 
to drive a nervous Englishman into melancholy 
madness than a few hours’ jolting over this most 





Chap. II. 


WATERLOO. 


2 I 


horrible highway. For miles on miles, and 
straight on to Waterloo, runs this unvarying 
thoroughfare, to the pitched portion of which our 
coach was practically confined; for as water-carts 
seemed to be luxuries wholly unknown to this 
part of Brussels, the macadamised half of the road 
was so thickly covered with dust, which rose on 
the slightest provocation in thick and massive 
clouds, that our eyes and throats were seriously 
inconvenienced, and ourselves transformed for 
the time into so many millers. Use, however, is 
said to be second nature, and by the time we had 
entered the long street of cottages which con¬ 
stitutes the village of Waterloo, we had all become 
tolerably reconciled to the jolting and the dust. 
As we passed through the village, our facetious 
driver pointed out the most noteworthy of the 
cottages. One of these residences merits fame 
as the dwelling-place of the talented person 
who, with praiseworthy skill and ingenuity, has 
contrived for some years past to meet the 
demand for the particular boot which adorned 
the amputated leg of the Marquis of Angle- 
sea; whilst divers other cottages were pointed 
out to us as having been the halting-places of 
particular heroes, who here had baited man 
and horse, previous to one or both being shot 




HOUGOMONT. 


Chap. II. 


2 2 


down, an hour or two later, in the adjoining 
battlefield. 

Dismounting from the coach, we were received 
by a white-haired veteran wearing a gold-laced 
cap, who introduced himself to us as Sergeant- 
Major Munday, the (then) recognized guide to 
the battlefield, and successor in that character to 
Sergeant-Major Cotton, who has written, at least 
in my opinion, one of the best and most reliable 
accounts of the great fight. Before handing me 
over to Munday, our sarcastic coachman confi¬ 
dentially whispered that the sergeant had distin¬ 
guished himself in peace as well as in the field, 
being the happy parent of no less than nineteen 
children. The sergeant led us over the field, 
explained to us the different positions taken by 
the contending armies during the eventful day, 
and showed us the chateau ofHougomont, or, as 
it is more properly called, “ Gomont,” which 
Napoleon was so anxious to possess, as the key to 
our position. Some of the party, English-like, 
proceeded to adorn the interior with their auto¬ 
graphs, but Munday rather staggered these regis¬ 
trars of their own fame when he told them, that 
small as the chateau was, there was always plenty 
of room for signatures, as the walls were white¬ 
washed when well covered, “ to make room for 




Chap. II. 


HOUGOMONT. 


2 3 


more.” If the ruthless washers would obliterate 
the names of the English Browns, Jones, and 
Robinsons who annually visit these venerable 
walls, the loss would scarcely be appreciable to 
their successors ; but alas! the process has with 
these obliterated the handwriting of men who 
have made their mark in other places besides the 
walls of Hougomont; in this way the honoured 
autographs of Byron, Southey, and Wordsworth 
have long since disappeared. 

Though fairly posted in the history of the 
great battle, I fancied I better understood how 
Waterloo was lost and won after my hour’s walk 
with the sergeant than I did before. Under its 
present aspect it is difficult to imagine that this 
rural scene has witnessed one of the greatest 
episodes of the world’s history. Despite the 
solemnity of the theme, I could not forbear 
smiling as I bethought me of poor Coster, bound 
to his horse and compelled, nolens nolens , to 
serve as Napoleon’s guide. I almost fancied 
I could see him ducking, as the storm of shot 
and shell rushed swiftly past him. Coster was 
perhaps the only man who thought and spoke 
slightingly of the great Emperor, who, as he 
closed his telescope with the ominous “ c esl 
fini ” is reported to have tossed a guinea to his 



24 


THE BELGIAN LION. 


Chap. II. 


trembling guide, as a reward for his involuntary 
service. 

Can the “ brave Belgians ” have raised that 
superhumanly-ugly mound ot theirs in com¬ 
memoration of their own distinguished services 
on the 18th of June, 1815? Munday told us 
that the appearance of the battlefield had been 
entirely altered since that memorable day, owing 
to the quantity of earth which was removed to 
construct this truly hideous and unfortunate 
monument. 

Before leaving Waterloo I visited the museum 
of the fight, collected by the late Sergeant-Major 
Cotton It contained some interesting relics, the 
authenticity of which, under the protection of 
the collector’s name, has always been considered 
conclusive. I call to mind a cuirass, through 
which a nine-pounder ball had drilled a ghastly 
hole into the body of the unfortunate wearer. A 
descriptive ticket in Belgian English was annexed 
to each curiosity; and I was fairly staggered 
when I read that a cross of the legion of honour 
had been found on u the fiend of Waterloo.” 

Returned to Brussels, I went with some of my 
Waterloo companions to the Pri Cat elan. Cha¬ 
teau des Fleitrs , and other gardens distinguished 
with equally euphonious names. There was 




Chap. II. A BELGIAN ARTISTS ATELIER. 


2 5 


nothing, however, very remarkable about any of 
them, except that they each appeared very inferior 
to the Jar din Mabille , or any gardens of a 
similar description in Paris or London. 

The following day I visited among other 
places the atelier of a Belgian artist, whose name, 
however, I have not preserved. Plis works were 
for the most part on a very extensive scale, and 
the figures being very much larger than life, were 
possibly on that account twice as natural. The 
room was a large one, and contained with a few 
smaller subjects four pictures of great size, which 
occupied nearly the whole length of the walls. 
Among the smaller tableaux I noticed a series of 
very amusing though puzzling pictures, depicting 
the emotions of a man before and after decapita¬ 
tion. The artist must surely have transferred 
some of his dreams to canvas, for the subjects 
were altogether too speculative and mysterious to 
be understood by anyone possessed of mere ordi¬ 
nary comprehension. 

Some of my companions of the previous day 
having called upon me in company with a Swedish 
tourist anxious to improve himself in English, 
we visited Wauxhall together, and after passing 
an hour or two here, one of the party conducted 
us to the “ Prince of Wales Tavern,” kept by an 





26 TEACHING A SWEDE ENGLISH Chap. II. 


adventurous compatriot, and accidentally dis¬ 
covered by our guide and introducer when on a 
voyage of discovery the previous day. This place 
of entertainment was principally patronized by 
Young Belgium, with whom it appeared to be the 


fashion to imbibe deep draughts of Bass’s ale. 
Ever anxious to air his English, our Swede seemed 
completely bewildered at the conversation current 
among some of his companions. I could not 
help smiling at his amazed and puzzled look, 
when one young English gentleman confidentially 
asked him if would like to “ whet his whistle.” 


















Chap. II. ANTWERP CATHEDRAL. 


27 


“ Veestle !” replied the foreigner ; “ what ese my 
veestle, and how shall I vet him ?” 

What a very puzzling locality the Place 
Royale is to be sure, all four sides so exactly 
alike, that I caught myself on the point of 
ringing the bell of the Minister for Foreign 
Affairs, whose office I had nearly mistaken for 
the Bellevue Hotel. The sentry came up and 
challenged, but civilly informed me, in answer to 
my question, that my hotel was not there, but 
“ en facer 

Taking up Galignani the next morning, I 
read with dismay that the celebrated Spanish 
Bourse of Antwerp had been destroyed by fire. 
Fearing lest another unexpected conflagration 
might deprive me of the chance of seeing the 
cathedral, I made a hasty breakfast, and in less 
than two hours after, found myself in the streets 
of this ancient commercial city. Intending to 
remain a night there, I went to an inn recom¬ 
mended by a Waterloo acquaintance, but found 
everything so dirty and uncomfortable, that I 
hastened my sight-seeing to enable me to catch 
the return train in the evening. It is of course 
quite unnecessary for me to say, that I was 
delighted with the cathedral; and my head grew 
dizzy as I looked upwards at its superb Gothic 




28 


ST. JACQUES. 


Chap. II. 


spire, tapering more than 400 feet into the clear 
air. I saw here the celebrated “ Descent from 
the Cross,” the masterpiece of Rubens; and 
noticed, though I did not admire, a carved pulpit 
by Verbruggen. A curious piece of ironwork 
near the entrance is sure to attract attention, for 
it is the production of a man as remarkable in his 
wav as Benvenuto Cellini; I refer to the celebrated 
blacksmith artist Quentin Matsys. From the 



cathedral I passed on to St. Jacques, decorated 
with monuments, stained glass, and carved wood¬ 
work—a handsome sanctuary, enriched with an¬ 
other work by Rubens, and the last resting-place 
of that great master. Thence to the Dominican 
church, the approach to which was guarded by 
grotesque stone figures, conspicuous among 
which I noticed the effigy of St. Peter, who is 
terribly scared and frightened at the threatening 






























































Chap. II. 


THE B URNT B 0 URSE. 


29 


attitude of the cock, who crows at him in a pecu¬ 
liarly fierce and truculent manner. On an arti¬ 
ficial eminence near the door of this church was 
erected a wooden representation of the Crucifixion, 
and in a grotto immediately at hand lay the body 
of Our Saviour, enveloped in silk and muslin; 
whilst hard by, a number of sinners with distorted 
features, were writhing in the flames and torments 
of purgatory. 

The day was too far advanced to admit of my 
seeing the Academy of Painting, but through 
the kindness of a private gentleman whose name 
I have omitted to record, I was enabled to visit 
his most valuable and interesting collection. The 
presentation of my card obtained for me this 
courteous and welcome civility. 

I had to work my way through a crowd of 
wooden shoe-wearers to get a peep at the two or 
three iron pillars supported by a melancholy mass 
of charred wood, all that now remained of the 
renowned and interesting Exchange of Antwerp. 
These charred and blackened vestiges of a past 
age were sadly suggestive of glories long since 
faded and gone. Years ago some 5000 merchants 
were said to congregate twice a day in this once 
famous place of resort. These sturdy Flemish 
burghers have long since gone to their rest, and 





30 


DEPARTURE FOR COLOGNE. Chap. II. 


the scenes of their busy schemes and labours has 
likewise passed for ever away— Si monumentum 
quceris-circumspice. 

Returned to Brussels, I spent at least half the 
night in fruitless endeavours to sketch out some 
satisfactory programme of my future movements. 
I consulted Murray, Bradshaw, the Practical and 
other Guide Books, until my heart ached, and all 
to no purpose. I mentally followed and tho¬ 
roughly enjoyed the prospect held out to me by 
route “ Number i,” only to turn to and prefer 
that laid down by route u Number 2,” which in its 
turn was supplanted by route “ Number 3,” and 
so on, until I had exhausted the whole itinerary. 
As, however, it would require some years instead 
of some weeks to properly work out and enjoy 
these enchanting pilgrimages, I gave up the task 
in despair, and Somnus mercifully interposed his 
authority ere I had developed or matured any 
definite plan of action. I had, however, deter¬ 
mined to move on, and accordingly two o’clock 
the next day found me at the railway station, 
forming a unit among a crowd of passengers com¬ 
posed for the most part of monks, priests, and 
English tourists. I was bound for Cologne, and 
had a long and tiresome journey before me, for 
the train, although marked express, was a very 









Chap. II. 


LIEGE. 


3 1 


slow one, and took seven long hours to reach its 
destination. 

Viewed from the railway, Belgium appears as 
if it had been rolled out by some gigantic machine. 
Miles upon miles of unvarying sameness followed 
each other, until the train halted at the Belgian 
“ Brummagem.” Seen from the rail, Liege has 
certainly the advantage of its English rival, for 
it can be seen with the naked eye, which cannot 
be said of Birmingham at all times, more espe¬ 
cially when the smoke is in full swing. Liege 
is studded with tall chimneys and lofty church 
spires, and lies embosomed among hills and foliage. 

I viewed it perhaps with greater satisfaction be¬ 
cause it was seventy-one miles from Brussels, and 
consequently nearer my destination. 

Leaving Liege far behind, on we proceeded, 
crossing the beautiful bridge over the Meuse, 
passing hills, rivulets, cascades, through tunnels 
and over viaducts, all of which, including even 
the tunnels, were agreeable variations after the 
ceaseless and uninteresting flats we had pre¬ 
viously traversed. Arrived at Pepinsterre Junc¬ 
tion, I felt tempted to get out and visit Spa; 
but ere I could make up my mind the train 
whisked us onward again. We changed car¬ 
riages at Venders, where I felt rejoiced to be 



32 


INSPECTION OF PASSPORTS. Chap. II. 


able to stretch my cramped limbs and obtain 
some refreshment. 

We had now entered the land of Sauerkraut, 
spiked helmets, harsh features, and gutteral dia¬ 
lect ; in other words, I now found myself on 
Prussian territory. At a station called Her- 
besthal my passport was demanded, and most 
rigorously inspected. I did not recognize my 
name when given out by the German official, 
and should certainly not have answered to it, had 
not that injured functionary, prompted by despair, 
held my passport aloft, and thus enabled me to 
identify and recover it. At Cologne that out¬ 
rageous continental ordeal, the inspection of 
luggage, had to be gone through; and here I 
witnessed a scene which reminded me of the 
trials undergone by those much-enduring and 
exemplary tourists Messrs. Brown, Jones, and 
Robinson. As soon as the luggage made its 
appearance, there was a general and rather un¬ 
seemly rush on the part of the fagged and wearied 
travellers, and hot and angry Englishmen and 
Englishwomen made frantic, but futile, appeals 
to the relentless officials to be taken out of their 
turn. It was comical to witness the curious and 
phlegmatic indifference with which these worthies 
received the storm of abuse levelled at them by 







Chap. II. A PUZZLED RAILWAY PORTER. 


33 


furious British tourists. I was fortunate enough 
to escape early, and with very little inconvenience, 
and hailing a cab, managed with some little diffi¬ 
culty to get the driver, who had stultified himself 
over an immense pipe, 
to understand where 
I wished him to drive 
me. Before leaving 
the station I had a 
frantic conference 
with a railway-porter 
in reference to cer¬ 
tain articles of lug¬ 
gage which did not 
to me, but 
which he persisted in 
cramming into the 
vehicle. He could 
not understand my 
German, nor I his 
English; so the re¬ 
sult was, that between 
us we came to a 
deadlock, which was broken by my pitching the 
articles objected to into the road. I left him 
scratching his pate in a helpless though truly 
comical state of despair, holding the disclaimed 

D 









34 


INSECT BEDFELLOWS. Chap. II. 


lugg a g e in his hand, utterly at a loss to know 
how to dispose of it. 

I found the hotel quite full, and having been 
told that all the principal hostelries were in a 
similarly plethoric condition, I accepted the offer 
of a small bedroom, on the understanding that a 
better would be provided for me by the morrow. 
The apartment assigned me was indeed a small 
one, perhaps some ten feet by four, and it was 
barely possible with dexterous management to 
enter it without barking the shins against out¬ 
lying articles of furniture. Fatigue, however, 
sent me to sleep, a state of bliss fated to be soon 
and unpleasantly interrupted ; for I shortly awoke 
in a state of terrible irritation, and became imme¬ 
diately alive to the fact that the Philistines were 
upon me. It may therefore be imagined how 
gratefully I received the information, conveyed 
to me shortly after daybreak, that a more com¬ 
fortable room had been prepared for my recep¬ 
tion. I must add, in justice to the hotel, the 
name of which I have purposely omitted, that 
during the remainder of my stay I was not again 
troubled with insect visitors. 

In consequence of my unpleasant experiences 
of the previous night, I did not make my ap¬ 
pearance in the salle-a-manger until dinner-time. 




Chap. II. 


MY D ZJTCH FRIEND. 


35 


There may have been between sixty and seventy 
persons assembled at the table d'hote, and the 
company present appeared to be composed of 
persons of almost every European nation. 
Cologne citizens, with their corpulent wives and 
children, mustered strongly, and there was a 
considerable sprinkling of uniforms amongst the 
assembled guests, the greater proportion of whom 
being Germans, rendered full justice to the good 
things set before them. Next me sat a portly 
comfortable individual, his pantaloons strapped 
and stretched to utmost tension, and by his side 
his son, a boy of some eight or nine years old, a 
miniature counterpart of his father, pantaloons 
and straps included. My portly neighbour 
proved to be an Amsterdam merchant, and, 
finding that he spoke English with extraordinary 
fluency, we soon became acquainted, and I ac¬ 
cepted his invitation to accompany him to a 
rifle-match, about to come off that afternoon in 
the neighbourhood of Cologne. 

The day was very warm, and we drove to the 
place of meeting; for my friend, who quite 
realized the generally-accepted idea of a Dutch¬ 
man, was by no means adapted for a walking 
tour. Arrived on the ground, we found our¬ 
selves in the midst of a vast concourse of spec- 


1) 2 





3 6 


A RIFLE MATCH. 


Chap. IT. 


tators assembled in a large open space, bounded 
by numerous tents, ornamented with the flags 
and ensigns of many nationalities. The general 
appearance of the place and its surroundings re¬ 
minded me somewhat of Greenwich Fair in a 
highly cultivated state of civilization ; the spec¬ 
tators being of a more sedate and orderly cha¬ 
racter, and infinitely better behaved than those 
who formerly frequented that happily defunct 
place of entertainment. Their good conduct 
may, possibly, be attributable to the presence of 
the fierce-looking Prussian soldier-policemen, with 
the iron spikes growing out of their helmets. As 
the riflemen drew near, the crowd began to evince 
some excitement; and soon they came in sight, 
some three or four hundred men, headed by a 
band of musicians, but having no special claim 
to military organization, either as regards step 
or uniform. The targets consisted of two 
curiously large wooden birds, destined to have 
their heads and tails, wings and bodies, shot away 
piecemeal, and a star, composed of numerous 
rays, terminating with buttons of cork, which the 
competitors were expected to shoot off in regular 
succession. The rifles were remarkable for variety 
of bore and calibre, some being as light as pea- 
rifles, whilst others were very much heavier than 





Chap. II 


A BALL. 


37 


those used for elephant or tiger shooting. Con¬ 
sidering the old-fashioned make of some of the 
arms, the preternaturally short space of time in 
which they fouled—obliging the owners to ram 
down their charges with might and main—and 
the wonderful and alarming powers of recoil 
which distinguished others, it was a matter of 
some wonder to me that the marksmen contrived 
to make such excellent practice as they did. 

The entrance-fee admitted us not only to the 

* 

rifle-ground but also to the “ ball,” which ter¬ 
minated the day’s amusements. It was dusk by 
the time one of the birds had been completely 
shot away, and dancing had already commenced 
in a spacious tent, again suggestive to my mind 
of the departed glories of the “ Crown and 
Anchor” at Greenwich. We found the interior 
decorated with flowers and evergreens, and at the 
further end was erected a dais, canopied with the 
banners of the various lodges or guilds to which 
the riflemen belonged, and covered with silver 
or silver-gilt cups, crosses, insignia, and medals, 
comprising not only the prizes intended for the 
best shots at the present contest, but also those 
which had been awarded on previous occasions. 
Seating ourselves at one of the tables, we called 
for some wine, and watched the phlegmatic 




38 


A CRINOLINE DISASTER. Chap. II 


Prussians gradually thawing under the influence 
of excitement, until their habitual reserve gave 
place to a state of exhilaration wonderful to wit¬ 
ness. The band was unusually bad, and it was 
really wonderful how the dancers contrived to 
keep time with it, for the drum and triangle 
worked so exceedingly hard, that they not un- 
frequently drowned the rest of the orchestra, and 
selfishly kept all the music to themselves. A 
ludicrous incident occurred ere we left this place. 

[ had noticed a young woman of unusually ample 
proportions footing it with a grace and vigour 
which, considering her exuberant build, was more 
than wonderful. Suddenly, and without a mo¬ 
ment’s warning, her rotundity collapsed, and her 
expansive crinoline came tumbling about the 
heels of herself and her astonished partner. In 
no way abashed at the roars of laughter which 
greeted her misfortune, the modest maiden picked 
up the disengaged petticoat, and walked away 
with it in the most unconcerned manner; and 
we afterwards caught a glimpse of her quietly 
restoring the troublesome garment to its proper 
position, in a retired corner of the tent. 

My pleasant Dutch acquaintance having busi¬ 
ness to transact at Aix-la-Chapelle, I accompanied 
him there the next day. The miserable invalids 






Chap. II. 


AIX-LA - CHA PELLE. 


39 


I met here reminded me somewhat of Malvern ; 
and from the number of persons I encountered 
suffering from loathsome skin affections I infer 
that the mineral springs are beneficial in these 
distressing afflictions. I was struck with the 
cathedral and the grand suite of show-rooms at 
the Kurhaus. Having seen these and a few other 
local lions we hired a cab, and drove for a couple 
of hours about the environs, which are very 
pretty. On our way to the Royale , where we 
dined, my friend and myself became suddenly 
and simultaneously ill. I was a spare man, and 
quickly recovered under the soothing influences 
of the table cThote; but my unfortunate and 
plethoric companion became so much worse that 
I became seriously alarmed at the prospect of 
having a sick Dutchman on my hands; and 
taking him into the open air happily succeeded 
in bringing him round, with the aid of cold 
brandy-and-water carefully and judiciously ad¬ 
ministered. At a loss to account for this strange 
circumstance I afterwards mentioned it to a Ger¬ 
man medical friend at Cologne, who told me that 
we had probably inhaled the vapours given out 
by the sulphur-impregnated spring. 

Returned to Cologne 1 visited the cathedral. 
The inhabitants are justly proud of their gorgeous 





40 


COLOGNE CATHEDRAL. 


Chap. II 


sanctuary, and display a laudable zeal about its 
restoration and completion. The interior and 
exterior scaffolding hid from view' much of the 
architectural beauties of this magnificent structure, 
and it is not for the present generation of tourists, 
nor perhaps the next, to say that they have seen 
the Cathedral of Cologne. At St. Peter’s I had 
the gratification of beholding another of the 



works of Rubens, the Crucifixion of St. Peter. 
The naturally painful subject is rendered doubly 
painful, from the tact ot the victim being presented 
head downwards. To see the features, which are 
of course wonderfully painted, you must twist 
yourself into a similar attitude, and look at the 
picture from between your own legs or those of a 
chair. 







Chap. II. 


MARIE DE MEDICI. 


4i 


Running the gauntlet of some of the foulest 
smells in Europe, not even excepting those of 
Edinburgh; threading narrow and horribly pitched 
streets and alleys, and failing to fall in with the 
wide-paved thoroughfares and London-like crowds 
mentioned by Murray, I returned to mine inn, 
passing on my way thither a house in the Sternen- 
gasse distinguished by its historical associations. 
Here it was that Rubens was born in 1577 ; and 
here too, exactly sixty-five years afterwards, death 
put an end to the long and bitter struggle beween 
Marie de Medici and the celebrated Cardinal 
Richelieu. Whilst that great minister reigned 
in princely magnificence at Paris, and the 
wretched puppet, Louis XIII., manufactured 
toys or whispered platonic love into the ears of 
Marie de Hautefort and Louise de la Fayette, 
the widow of Henry IV., King of France and 
Navarre, lay a-dying at Cologne, destitute of 
food and fuel. The struggle between herself and 
the great Cardinal minister was no mere struggle 
for power; it was, indeed, essential to Richelieu’s 
very existence that he should prove the victor, 
for the brave impetuous woman had sworn, even 
at her greatest extremity—and Richelieu well 
knew that she kept her word—that if she ever 
returned to France alive, she would make the 







42 


MARIE DE MEDICI 


Chap. II. 


Cardinal’s head roll in the dust. The winter of 
1641—2 was a peculiarly rigorous one, and to such 
straits was the unfortunate widow of Henry IV. 
at length reduced, that she was actually obliged 
to burn her furniture and the wooden fixtures of 
her apartment for fuel. Her unscrupulous enemy 
did not long enjoy his triumph, for death carried 
him off the same year, whilst her wretched son 
survived his unfortunate mother only a few short 
months. 





( 43 ) 


CHAPTER III. 


Up the Rhine—Konigswinter—German Coverlets—Ascent of 
the Drachenfels—German Lovers—A Drachenfels Breakfast 
—Rolandseck—Coblentz—Casino—German Courtesy and Gig- 
lamps—Stolzenfels—List Slippers—The French Monument— 
Sayn Castle—An Intoxicated Coachman—Ems—Crinoline 
again—A Small German Family—The Lurlei Echo —Pfalz 
Castle—Bingen — A Bachelor’s Trials—Barking Curs and 
Military Music—Wiesbaden—German Idiosyncracies. 



' ANDERING 
) about Cologne 
on the last 
morning of 
my stay in 
that city I 
strolled into 
the parade- 
ground, 
where I 
found some 
stiff- look- 


i ng soldiers at morning exercise under their gray¬ 
haired colonel, a noble-looking old gentleman, 
































44 


UP THE RHINE. 


Chap. III. 


very like the well-known portrait of our late 
enemy Nicholas of Russia. After a short drill 
they marched off, while their splendid band re¬ 
mained to entertain myself and a few admiring 
nursemaids. If they did not perform for their 
own gratification, or to “ keep their hands in,” 
it was very kind of them to give themselves so 
much trouble for the delectation of the few per¬ 
sons who stayed to listen. Considering the 
national fondness for music, and the quality of 
the performance, it was really wonderful that it 
should be honoured by so small an audience. 
Before quitting Cologne I was indebted to the 
kindness of my medical friend before mentioned 
for an introduction to the artist engaged in the 
restoration of the cathedral. This gentleman was 
kind enough to show me his atelier , where I saw 
many fine statues destined to adorn that hand¬ 
some edifice. 

About five o’clock in the afternoon the 
Rhine boat steamed away from Cologne, carrying 
me with it. The sail for some time was one of 
the most uninteresting possible to imagine ; the 
country on either bank presenting an endless 
series of uninteresting Hats, until we reached Bonn, 
at which point the beauties of the river began to 
open out and develope themselves. Following 




Chap. Ill 


GERMAN COVERLETS 


45 


the advice of my late Dutch friend, I left the 
steamer at Kdnigswinter, and established myself 
at the comfortable Hotel Berlin ; where, in spite 
of eider-down coverlets having an inveterate pro¬ 
pensity to slip away and leave the traveller in a 



helpless state of nudity, I was fortunate enough 
to obtain a good night’s rest. 

I was up and dressed long ere the hotel guests 
had left their couches, to the surprise of a few 
sleepy waiters, who responded to my call for the 
bill with cheerful alacrity. Having discharged 
my reckoning, I set oft on one of the most de¬ 
lightful of summer mornings to ascend the crag 
of Drachenfels. The enterprising landlord who 

























46 A DRACHENFELS BREAKFAST Chap. III. 


has established himself on the summit keeps— 
like the German freebooters of old—an excellent 
look-out, for his waiter waylaid me en route , and 
demanded my orders, assuring me that breakfast 
would be ready by the time I returned from the 
castle. I was not the only person who had taken 
advantage of the beautiful morning, for a pair of 
German lovers were already established on the 
summit, and looked particularly disgusted at my 
unlooked-for intrusion. The view, of course, 
amply compensated for the little toil undergone 
in the ascent. I now saw the glorious beauties of 
the Rhine developed to their fullest perfection. 
Down stream, the view extended as far as Cologne 
itself; whilst Bonn, and an almost endless suc¬ 
cession of villages and castellated ruins, presented 
themselves, until, in its upward course, the river 
became lost to view among the distant rocks and 
hills. 

The landscape was charming : I wish I could 
say as much for the breakfast. But for the name 
of the thing, the ham might very well have passed 
for salted shoe-leather, or petrified “junk.” To 
cut it was difficult : to eat it impossible. I called 
for some eggs, which, although barely warm, were 
at any rate eatable. I found some consolation for 
my unsatisfactory breakfast in the perusal of the 







Chap. III. 


ROLANDSECK. 


47 


visitors’ book, one of the most interesting and 
comical miscellanies I have ever met with, and 
infinitely more amusing than some of the self- 
styled comic — but really dreary—'publications 
with which we are at present inundated. This 
book abounded with original and startling con¬ 
tributions by eccentric tourists, and was illustrated 
by various amateur artists, both English and 
foreign. It was, perhaps, fortunate that I had not 
indulged in a more hearty breakfast, for the short 
cut I chose for my descent would not have assisted 
the process of digestion. Impetus once acquired, 
I rushed down the steep pathway at railroad 
speed, at the imminent peril of being tripped up 
by the loose stones which everywhere abounded. 
There was, however, no help for it; and I liter¬ 
ally found no rest for the soles of my feet until 
I had reached the river-bank below, where I found 
a boat waiting which I had engaged in the early 
morning. In this I coasted the lovely island of 
Nonanwerth, and landed at the opposite rock of 
Rolandseck, which I ascended to visit its frag¬ 
mentary castle, of which little now remains beyond 
an archway. The Rhine appeared to greater ad¬ 
vantage from this position than from the opposite 
rock of Drachenfels, owing to that castle-crowned 
crag forming so conspicuous an object in the 






4 8 


COBLENTZ. 


Chap. III. 


view. From Rolandseck I went on by Rhine 
steamer to Coblentz, my destined head-quarters 
for the next day or two. 

And now let me pause a moment, and en¬ 
deavour to describe the scene I contemplated 
from my bedroom. Although situated at an 
inconvenient height, so far as regards the number 
of stairs I had to ascend to reach it, the magnifi¬ 
cent view compensated for every inconvenience. 
Before me rose in majestic grandeur the rock and 
batteries of Ehrenbreitstein, the great guns frown¬ 
ing down from their embrasures, as if expressly 
laid to blow me and my little bedroom to 
atoms; beneath, the Rhine was crossed by one 
of those wonderful boat-bridges which so fre¬ 
quently span the river, and form so striking 
an accessory to the landscape. I was called 
away from further contemplation of this won¬ 
derful combination of rock and river scenery by 
the clanging of the dinner-bell, which reminded 
me of my unsatisfactory breakfast, and for which 
I made ample amends at the table d'hote which 
followed. 

Roaming about Coblentz in the twilight, at 
the imminent risk of losing my way—for in my 
case the organ of locality is insufficiently de¬ 
veloped—I strolled into a casino, where I found 





Chap. Ill 


GERMAN GIG-LAMPS. 


49 


all the rank and fashion of the town partaking of 
coffee, flavoured with excellent music. Seating 
myself, I called for some wine ; and watched the 
punctilious and formal ceremony of Prussian 
courtesies. Most of the persons present seemed 
on familiar terms, and in every direction hats and 



shakoes flew off in mutual salutation. Nearly 
every other man wore spectacles, a curious habit, 
the reason of which I should be glad to know. 
It would be an insult to the Prussian gentlemen 
to suppose that half of them were short-sighted ; 
but it seems difficult otherwise to account for the 
almost universal habit. My droll Dutch friend 
at Cologne told me, that the Germans were philo- 

E 








5° 


STOLZENFELS. 


Chap. III. 


sophers, and wore gig-lamps under the impression 
that these instruments conferred a look of superla¬ 
tive wisdom upon the countenance of the wearer. 
Whatever be the true reason, the habit, amount¬ 
ing almost to an affectation, is not a becoming 
one. To my mind, at least, the German face divine 
requires a more softening medium than a pair of 
ungainly gig-lamps. 

The next day I drove to Stolzenfels. The 
castle being under inspection by a party of hard¬ 
working and practical tourists, I had to wait until 
these industrious persons had exhausted the won¬ 
ders of the interior; but the day was so fine, and 
I enjoyed so exquisite a view of the rivers Rhine 
and Lahn, the ruined castle of Lahneck being 
exactly opposite, that the time could not hang 
heavy on my hands. Piles of list slippers, all ap¬ 
parently made on a gigantic last, lay heaped on 
each floor of the interior, and I was obliged to 
put a pair of these over my boots to preserve the 
polished floor from scratches. I can remember 
but little of what I saw here, and must sum up 
the objects of interest under the rather general 
description of frescoes, windows, and list shoes. 
Although anything but ornamental, these last 
were far from despicable; for whilst they pre¬ 
served the beautiful oak flooring from damage, 















Chap. Ill 


LIST SLIPPERS. 


5 1 


they saved the wearer from the bruises he would 
inevitably sustain by a fall on their highly 
polished and glassy surface. On my return 



to Coblentz, I stopped the carriage at the 
monument erected by the French when on 
their way to Russia; and marked the signifi¬ 
cant “visa” added by the Muscovites when they 
paid their return visit. 


E 2 



























































































































































































5 2 


SA YN CASTLE. 


Chap. III. 


In the afternoon I drove to Sayn Castle, 
some seven miles from Coblentz, and the seat, 
if I remember rightly, of Prince Lichtenstein. 
Leaving scenery out of the question, Sayn will 
better repay a visit than Stolzenfels ; a fact 
“ not generally known,” but not the less true 
on that account. I remember with what ex¬ 
quisite pleasure I found myself, on this burning 
summer day, seated for a brief space in a lovely 
subterranean grotto, the walls of which were lined 
with moss and creeping plants, a fountain play¬ 
ing in the midst, the cool refreshing waters fall¬ 
ing into a basin which abounded with gold and 
silver fish. Halting at the village of Sayn, I 
quenched my thirst with a draught of passable 
beer, and offered a similar refresher to my driver, 
a man-child of some fourteen or fifteen years; 
but he rejected it with scorn, and called for some 
low-priced wine, highly suggestive of vinegar, 
a bottle of which he emptied with much ap¬ 
parent gusto. Weak as it was, the wretched 
stuff quickly found its way into his little head ; 
and thereafter he and I had to change places, 
and I was obliged to put him inside and drive 
him home, to the astonishment of mine host 
and his staff of waiters, who eagerly inquired 
what had become of the coachman, and seemed 




Chap. III. AN INTOXICATED COACHMAN 


53 


relieved when I drew forth that limp and helpless 
functionary. 

With the returning morning the little coach¬ 
man recovered his brains, and presented him¬ 



self at an early hour; requesting me, in a very 
sheepish manner, to overlook his faux pas of the 
previous night. As the boy was a retainer of the 
hotel, and consequently at the beck and call of 
any other lazy traveller, I was rather amused at 




























































54 CRINOLINE AGAIN Chap. III. 


his penchant for myself; and on the intercession 
of one of the waiters, who offered to stand bail 
tor his good conduct, evinced returning confi¬ 
dence by engaging him to drive me over to Ems. 
Having induced another solitary tourist to ac¬ 
company me, we set out on our way to that cele¬ 
brated spa, previously inspecting the fortress of 
Ehrenbreitstein, or rather such part of it as the 
Prussian military authorities deemed it prudent to 
show us. 

We paid a most exorbitant price for an exe¬ 
crable dinner at the Quatre Sarsons; and I re¬ 
member that my companion was very indignant 
at the preposterous size of the ladies’ crinolines, 


which were of so ample and voluminous a cha¬ 
racter that the wearers could not seat themselves 
with any regard to decency. Since those days a 
fashionable revolution has happened, and, in 
England at least, the fair sex have gone to the 


opposite extreme. I confess that I regret the 
change, for, in reason, crinoline was undoubtedly 
a becoming article of dress; and the ladies a few 
years ago presented a very different, and, I will 
add, a very much more pleasing appearance than 
they do now. It was then at least the fashion to 
biing no particular part of the figure into promi¬ 
nent relief: but now it is the habit of “ the girl 

















Chap. II[. THE KURSAAL GARDENS. 55 

of the period ” to gather her drapery as tightly as 
possible around her, as if it really was her object 
to push into notice a portion of her figure which 
nature has already made sufficiently prominent to 
justify her in dispensing with all unnecessary 
exaggeration. But however ornamental crinoline 
may have been, carried to the length, or rather 
breadth, adopted by the German women at Ems, 
it was simply a monstrous caricature. The calm 
indifference of the wearers to the exhibition they 
were gratuitously affording us astonished English¬ 
men—-of which exhibition, by the way, they were 
without doubt perfectly conscious—constituted 
not the least astonishing part of the spectacle. 

We crossed the lovely Lahn, and visited the 
baths and hot springs; but the blazing sun made 
us beat a hasty retreat, and we were glad to seek 
safety in the more shady region of the Kursaal 
gardens. In these we found a number of gaily- 
dressed ladies and gentlemen promenading or re¬ 
clining beneath the trees, the shade of which was 
absolutely delicious in the burning noontide heat; 
others were drinking the waters, merely, I presume, 
as a matter of medicinal routine, and scarcely 
from choice; for they tasted to me not unlike 
indifferent chicken-broth. An excellent band 
performed in the grounds, and added to the en- 







5 6 


EMS. 


Chap. III. 


joyment of the scene; but their inspiriting music 
seemed to possess no charms for the infatuated 
devotees of either sex who haunted the rouge-et- 
noir tables of the Kursaal. A large proportion 
of the ladies I saw at Ems were Englishwomen, 
whose beauty compared most favourably with that 
of their German sisters, whose charms were of a 
coarser and less refined character. 

Ems proved so attractive that it was late when 
we left it. Darkness set in long before we got 
back to Coblentz ; and we should infallibly have 
lost our way, had our little driver indulged in his 
propensity for sour wine. That conscientious 
little man, however, kept faith with us, and con¬ 
ducted himself throughout the day as solemnly as 
any judge. At intervals the darkness was illu¬ 
minated by brilliant flashes of lightning, which 
revealed to us, in startling though momentary 
brilliancy, the varied scenery and well-wooded 
and castellated heights of the Rhine. After a 
time the rock and batteries of Ehrenbreitstein 
loomed upwards in the flashes; and ere long the 
hollow rumble of our wheels announced to us that 
we were crossing the river, and that one of the 
most delightful days that I at least ever remember 
to have spent was brought to a termination. 

Before leaving Coblentz, I must not forget to 






Chap. III. A SMALL GERMAN FAMILY, 


57 


mention a family I met with at the hotel in which 
I had taken up my quarters. They were Germans, 
and were, as regards height and breadth, the 
largest family it has ever been my lot to witness : 
but height and breadth attained a climax in the 
person of one of the daughters, a young lady of 
absolutely herculean proportions. They were 
four in number, and their appearance in the salle- 
a-manger always created a sensation amongst the 
assembled company. As I stood at the hotel 
door, waiting for the arrival of the steamer, this 
large family entered their carriage for an after¬ 
noon drive. As the largest of the party mounted 
the steps, the head-waiter admiringly remarked 
that the young lady was “ a fine young woman 
and only seventeen he alluded to the age and 
not the weight of the lady; but had he told me 
that she weighed twenty stone, I should have 
implicitly swallowed his statement. 

Some travellers appear to prefer the scenery of 
the Rhine from Coblentz to Bingen to that of 
any other part of the river; but if my own 
humble opinion be worth anything, the beauty 
of the river culminates in the region of the seven 
mountains, the Drachenfels, and the surrounding 
neighbourhood. Among the most noteworthy 
objects in my passage upwards, I remarked the 




58 


THE L URL El ECHO, 


Chap. Ill 


black rock called the Lurlei. A man, stationed I 
suppose for that purpose, fired a small cannon, and 
endeavoured to awaken the celebrated echo, which, 
according to Murray, repeats sounds fifteen times. 
I confess I omitted to count, a feat of some diffi¬ 
culty at the best of times, but especially when 



the counter is seated on the deck of a Rhine 
steamer, the noise of whose paddles must ma¬ 
terially prejudice the effect produced by any 
echo however potent. Pfalz Castle, near Caub, is 
a remarkable structure: without the aid of the 
faithful Murray it would be difficult to understand 























































































Chap. III. 


A BACHELOR'S TRIALS. 


59 


how to get into it; but he solves the enigma— 
by means of a ladder. 

It was night before I arrived at Bingen. A 
solitary traveller is liable to many inconveniences, 
to which he would probably be subjected in a 
minor degree were he travelling in company with 
others. In the first place he is known to be a 
bachelor, and therefore, if the hotel authorities 
do not happen to be in the best of humours, 
any accommodation is good enough for him. I 
indignantly protested against the wretched and 
uncomfortable bedroom assigned to me by the 
proprietor of the Victoria (the name will out), and 
had to wait an hour ere it suited him to accommo¬ 
date me with a better. Indeed no notice was taken 
of my complaints, until I had expressed my inten¬ 
tion of seeking better treatment at the rival 
establishment of the Cheval Blanc . At first I 
thought this churlish treatment might be attri¬ 
butable to the house being full at the time ; but 
this was not the fact, as I afterwards ascertained 
that there were very few persons at the hotel 
when I arrived there. This little annoyance over, 
I started in search of my portmanteau, which I 
had forwarded hither from Cologne. My bag- 
gage eventually made its appearance from the 
midst of an immense heap of other luggage, and 








6o 


WIESBADEN. 


Chap. III. 


the ease with which the porter found it not a 
little surprised me. 

And what a wretched night I passed here! 
Some horrid curs belonging to the establishment 
made night hideous by “ baying the moon,” and 
effectually drove all slumber from my eyelids. 
As morning drew on the wretched animals began 
to tire, and eventually gave in altogether, enabling 
me to snatch half an hour’s repose. Before five 
o’clock, however, the band of a Prussian infantry 
regiment on the march, and passing beneath my 
window, most effectually aroused me; and vexed 
and weary as I was with lack of sleep, I felt 
glad to leave this uncomfortable neighbourhood, 
and availing myself of an early steamer, passed on 
to Biberich, whence I drove to Wiesbaden. 

It was Sunday, and one of the most unfortu¬ 
nate days I could have selected to seek accom¬ 
modation at this “ City of Lodging-houses.” My 
application for admission at the Hotel de la Rose 
was ineffectual; and at the Adler , Nassauer 
Hof and others, I met with no better success. 
They had all the same answer for me, were quite 
full, but could one and all promise me ample 
accommodation on the morrow. At length I 
obtained a small room at an unpretending but 
comfortable inn called the Hotel de France; my 








Chap. III. 


WIESBADEN. 


61 


host apologizing for his apartment, but assuring 
me that I should have a better to-morrow, a pro¬ 
mise which, I am bound to add, he literally and 
honourably fulfilled. 

A fastidious person might possibly object 
that my hotel was situated at an inconvenient 
distance from the Kursaal; but as the road to 
that centre of attraction was bordered for the 
most part by a shady avenue of trees, which 
afforded a most agreeable shelter from the broil¬ 
ing sun, I suffered very little inconvenience from 
its effects. The band was playing when I entered 
the Conversationshaus, and the large and magni¬ 
ficent room was rapidly filling with a fashionable 
company; but here too, as at Ems, the fre¬ 
quenters of the rouge-et-noir and roulette tables 
seemed to have no ear for music. The gardens 
of the Kursaal were very large and tastefully laid 
out; and wandering among the shady paths, or 
by the waterside, or seated beneath the trees, I 
found a gay company of ladies and gentlemen 
enjoying themselves after their respective fashions 
—the men smoking cigarettes or the inevitable 
German pipe, the ladies knitting or reading. 

The dinner at the Hotel cte France , as regards 
both the consumed and the consumers, was a 
truly national feast. I make the remark without 





62 


GERMAN TRIOS YNCRA CIES. Chap. III. 


a scintilla of animus, but must confess that, to my 
mind at least, there is something eccentric about 
the cut and figure of a German which will enable 
one to identify him without difficulty. He may 
be recognised infallibly by the curious fashion he 
has adopted of wearing a large and massive ring 
on his first finger. As a rule he eats voraciously; 
and when not otherwise engaged rests his head 
upon his hands, his elbows supported by the 
table ; and in this attitude addresses his compatriot 
on the opposite side in the loudest possible tone 
of voice, or surveys the rest of the company at 
his leisure. Occasionally he picks his teeth with 
a fork, or with one of the little wooden skewers 
provided for that purpose by the authorities; at 
times, indeed (but I must admit that this is ex¬ 
ceptional), I have seen him comb his hair over 
the dinner-table, to the undisguised dismay and 
annoyance of any Englishman who may have the 
misfortune to be his neighbour ; and as soon as 
the dinner routine is over he invariably smokes. 

Murray proclaims Wiesbaden to be “ boiling 
hot,” which is certainly true. At this very warm 
place I found the German coverlets really service¬ 
able luxuries, as they saved me unnecessary exer¬ 
tion by leaving me at an early period of the 
night. I presume that in winter the Germans 









Ch. III. THE THE A TEE AT WIESBADEN. 63 


lash themselves to their bedclothes, otherwise I 
am fairly puzzled to conceive how they manage 
to retain possession of these exceedingly volatile 
coverings. 

There was a performance at the theatre the 
following night, and I availed myself of the op¬ 
portunity to visit that place of entertainment. I 
was disappointed with the interior, which in my 
opinion was scarcely worthy of the Grand Duchy 
of Baden, the house being little larger than the 
Strand Theatre, and having few pretensions to 
either elegance or comfort. The “ artistes ” were 
of average merit; but owing, perhaps, to the ex¬ 
ceptional heat of the weather the audience was 
decidedly more select than numerous. The opera 
had some reference to Peter the Great, but the 
dress and general appearance of that distinguished 
person induced me at first to mistake him for a 
stage smuggler. I was infinitely entertained with 
the person who sustained this important character ; 
he was a corpulent little man, his broad inexpres¬ 
sive features being adorned with mustaches of 
preposterous length and blackness, which projected 
so far on either side of his face that they seemed 
to be trying to get away from him altogether. I 
think this formidable personage rather daunted 
the audience, for whenever he appeared and 




64 


THE GAMBLING-TABLES . 


Chap. III. 


twinkled his savage little eyes they applauded him 
vociferously, as if to keep him in good humour. 

The performances had at least the merit of 
being enjoyably short: for they ended about nine 
o’clock, at which time the Kursaal with its shops 
and handsome rooms were brilliantly illuminated, 
and filled with a gay and well-dressed company of 
ladies and gentlemen. The habituSs , however, of 
the gambling-tables are a class per se , and seemed 
to me at most of these German spas to bear a 
strong family resemblance. A study of their 
various physiognomies would, of course, reveal a 
certain proportion of pigeons; but the majority 
were hawks, and carried the unmistakable look 
of cunning, mingled with anxiety, which seems to 
characterize the regular professional gambler. 




( 65 ) 


CHAPTER IV. 


Wiesbaden to Frankfort—A British Bagman—Expedition in 
Search of Beer—Lost at Frankfort—A Wet Night—Heidel¬ 
berg—Table d’Hote—Students—A Night Visit to the Castle 
—A Night’s Rest at Heidelberg—Frightening a Frenchman— 
Baden-Baden—The Old Castle—Singular Notice—Dungeons 
of the New Castle—German Politeness — Freiburg — A 
Freiburg Umbrella—Soaking Day—Freiburg to Schaffhausen 

via the Valley of Hell—Singular Reception at the-The 

Rhine Falls. 



journey is a 
very short 
one—only an hour and a halt by the rail. 

On leaving the train at Frankfort my atten¬ 
tion was attracted by sounds ot discord, in which 


IESBADEN 
to Frankfort 
the words 
are lengthy, 
and sugges¬ 
tive of dis¬ 
tance, but in 
truth the 


F 










66 


A BRITISH BAGMAN. 


Chap. IV. 


an English tongue, pitched in a very high key, 
much preponderated. The tongue belonged to 
a British bagman, an original I had before en- 
countered on one of the Rhine steamers, where 
he had signalized himself by quarrelling with 
the steward, because that civil but unhappy 
functionary had found it impossible to divide 
himself, and attend to the wants of several per¬ 
sons at one and the same moment. His present 
cause of complaint was missing luggage, which, 
however, turned up long before my amiable com¬ 
patriot had exhausted the whole of his elegant 
vocabulary. In a national point of view I was 
ashamed oi the man, and could not forbear com¬ 
paring his angry and abusive bearing with that 
of the civil and collected porters, who received 
his remarks—probably because they were mis¬ 
understood—with serene indifference. The restor¬ 
ation of his luggage, however, operated as a 
sedative, and the angry, bagman ascended the 
omnibus with myself, and was set down in a sim¬ 
mering condition at the White Swan. I went 
on to the Hotel de Rnssie , where they assigned 
me a bedroom at a most uncomfortable height. 
The German innkeepers would appear to look 
upon a young Englishman somewhat in the light, 
of an aerial being, for they invariably domicile him 






Chap. IV. 


A SEARCH FOR BEER. 


67 


as near the clouds as circumstances will permit. 
Much consolation for the inconvenient mounting 
rests, however, in the fact that the higher you 
ascend, the less, as a general rule, you have to pay. 

The pleasant but inevitable light wines I had 
been for some time past imbibing had produced 
an absolute longing for a change of beverage, 
and I set out this evening on an expedition, 
having for its object the discovery of a place 
where I could satisfy my craving for a delicious 
draught of beer. In the course of the expedition 
I stumbled upon the British bagman, who ap¬ 
peared to be bent on a similar errand ; and as a 
community of wants induced to a certain extent 
a community of interests, we struck up a quasi 
acquaintance, and agreed to prosecute our search 
in company. Believing that soldiers must be 
good authorities on the subject of beer, we fol¬ 
lowed a party, and I am bound to add that the 
result amply justified our expectations. Our un¬ 
suspecting guides brought us to a tavern, exten¬ 
sively and almost exclusively filled with military 
patrons, where we obtained some cheap but really 
excellent and wholesome beer. The soothing in¬ 
fluence of the refreshing beverage opened my 
companion’s heart, and developed the most amiable 
phases of his character. I could scarcely have 


68 


FRANKFORT-ON-THE-MAIN. Chap. IV. 


believed that my friend, once so irate and abusive, 
could become so gentle and confiding. He told 
me much of his private history—more, indeed, 
than I cared to know; and I was in a short time 
acquainted with the fact of his having been 
tempted to try his luck at the faro-tables of 
Wiesbaden, which, however, on the previous night 
had ungratefully deceived him, the result being 
the loss of a considerable sum of money. My 
friend now evinced a commendable anxiety on 
the subject of his financial position, and as he 
proceeded to interlard his narrative with anecdotes 
of confiding persons of his acquaintance who had 
lent money to distressed but honourable strangers, 
I began to perceive that my enterprising acquaint¬ 
ance had mistaken me for a pigeon, and as his 
financial affairs could not by any possibility in¬ 
terest myself, took the earliest opportunity, con¬ 
sistent with civility, of bidding him farewell. 

Frankfort-on-the-Main, viewed by daylight, 
and under the cheering influence of a bright sun, 
is really a handsome city. It has noble shops, 
imposing streets, and generally the appearance of 
a thriving commercial town. When I was there 
it was garrisoned by Austrian and Prussian troops, 
who seemed to be on the very best terms with 
each other. Since then, however, wonderful 








Chap. IV. GERMAN MIL I TAR Y BANES. 69 

changes have happened ; a few years have wit¬ 
nessed the Danish war, the Prussian-Italian alli¬ 
ance, and the destruction of the old German 
Confederation ; a very different state of things 
now exists in Frankfort, its Austrian garrison has 
evaporated, and left the town in possession of the 
stiff-starched but splendid soldiers of Frederick 
William of Prussia. Frankfort appeared to be 
a sort of paradise for nursemaids, who evinced a 
predilection for military admirers similar to that 
which distinguishes their Anglo-Saxon sisterhood. 

Opposite the great guard-house, a picturesque 
structure with two small field-guns planted before 
it, I stayed to listen to the splendid performance 
of two of the regimental bands. To me this was 
indeed a treat, but here it seemed so ordinary and 
commonplace an occurrence that not even the 
foot-passengers stayed to listen and admire. Our 
English military bands, with some few exceptions, 
are on the whole a failure ; they seem for the 
most part to lack power and precision ; yet what 
crowds of fashionable ladies and gentlemen honour 
their performances. Imagine then the assem¬ 
blage that would greet one of these famous 
military bands could it favour an English flower- 
show with its presence. 

So long as the bands continued to play, I 


70 


GERMAN PIPES. 


Chap. IV. 



stayed to listen, but in time this attraction ceased, 
and I grew weary of perambulating the hard 
pavement and staring at the curiosities in the 
shop-windows. Of these curiosities perhaps the 
most remarkable were the pipes, some of which, 

as specimens of German 
ingenuity and elaborate 
workmanship, were so 
unique, that I was griev¬ 
ously tempted to pur¬ 
chase one as a momento 
of Frankfort. I, how¬ 
ever, resisted the temp¬ 
tation, for experience 
had already taught me 
to carry only what was 
really necessary. There¬ 
after I employed myself 
in periodical exploring 
expeditions, wandering into that wonderful and 
eccentric part of Frankfort, the Jews’ quarter, not 
unfrequently losing myself in narrow and unfre¬ 
quented streets and lanes, and eventually, when 
on the verge of idiotic despair, finding the im¬ 
posing faqade of the Hotel de Rnssie staring me 
in the face. 

A soaking night confined me to the hotel, 











Chap. IV. HEIDELBERG. 71 

and left to my own resources, I long debated in 
my mind the propriety of paying a visit to 
Homburg. The “ noes ” however eventually had 
it. They told me I had already been at Ems, 
had visited Wiesbaden, and would in all proba¬ 
bility sooner or later find myself at Baden-Baden ; 
Homburg was after all only another edition of 
these German spas. These cogent arguments 
decided the question, and I resolved not to go to 
Homburg, but to push onwards to-morrow. 

I left Frankfort the following morning for 
Heidelberg, passing on my way Darmstadt, which 
according to Murray would scarcely, at least in a 
tourist point of view, have repaid a visit, the chief 
attractions appearing to be a museum and a 
theatre. Museums can certainly be seen at any 
season of the year ; but it was too hot for theatre¬ 
going, added to which the theatre, if worth seeing 
at all, was almost certain to be closed at this time 
of year. After leaving Darmstadt, the rail passed 
along the base of the well-wooded and castle- 
crowned Odenwald, through a fine and fertile 
country, abounding with crops of tobacco and 
maize. 

I took up my quarters at the Pnnz Karl , 
under the very shadow of the grand old electoral 
castle of Heidelberg. With characteristic good 


7 2 


GERMAN STUDENTS. 


Chap. IV. 


fortune I arrived just as the table cThote was 
about to begin. I found it largely patronized 
by English people, and one of the best both as 
to cooking and service I had lately met with. 
In an English point of view, the Germans 
provide a strange jumble of eatables at these 
tables d'hote. All kinds of culinary extremes 
meet, and, what is still stranger, seem to agree. 
Here you find sweets mingling with acids, beef is 
served with cherries, and roast duck with apricots ; 
whilst the vegetables form so important an item 
of culinary economy, that they not unfrequently 
constitute a separate and distinct course. 

During an evening stroll I encountered many 
eccentric specimens of that peculiar genus—the 
German student. Some of these affected a rather 
outre style of attire, while others wore caps of 
divers colours, to distinguish (so says the Practical 
Guide) the clubs to which they respectively be¬ 
longed. There were between six and seven 
hundred of these wild young blades at the 
university, forming of themselves no inconsider¬ 
able element of mischief in this quiet humdrum 
place. In the course of my walk I mounted to 
the terrace of the castle. The gathering gloom, 
however, had rendered the view indistinct; the 
solitude was profoundly oppressive; the wind 





Ch. IV. A NIGHTS REST AT HEIDELBERG. 


73 


sighed and whistled through the foliage, and 
through the crannies and sally-ports of the 
magnificent old ruin. The general appearance 
of everything portended a heavy storm of rain, 
and in a few minutes down it came in thick heavy 
drops. Unprovided as I was with either great¬ 
coat or umbrella, I hastily “ skedaddled,” reaching 
the market-place below just in time to save 
myself a thorough drenching. 

The rain pattered down unceasingly the whole 
night long, the wind rattled and shook the case¬ 
ments savagely, heavy waggons rumbled over the 
roughly-pitched streets, the horses jingled their 
bells maliciously, the drivers cracked their heavy 
whips like pistol-shots, while half the town ap¬ 
peared to be thoroughly wide awake, and learning 
to play on the horn. These combined disturb¬ 
ances effectually drove sleep from my eyelids, and 
I awoke at ten the next morning unrefreshed and 
weary, with the comfortable prospect of being 
weather-bound at Heidelberg. Happily for me 
my apprehensions were not doomed to realization, 
for as the morning advanced the sun arose, and 
the wet and cloudy weather was succeeded by a 
brilliant cheerful day. 

Breakfast over 1 again ascended to the castle. 
Here I found a merry French party of ladies and 




74 FRIGHTENING A FRENCHMAN Chap. IV. 


gentlemen waiting to be admitted, and went over 
the ruin in their company. At first sight the 
Great Tun is somewhat disappointing, but I 
believe its pretensions are not without foundation, 
and that it really is—as it professes to be—the 
largest wine cask in the world. Our guide, an 
arch and mischievous member of the fair sex, 



caused us much amusement by a trick she played 
on one of the Frenchmen. Monsieur had ad¬ 
mired some knick-knack which hung from the 
wall of the room where the tun is exhibited, and 
gladly availed himself of the girl’s invitation to 
examine it more closely. This he proceeded to 


















































Chap. IV. AN EXCITED TOLL-TAKER. 


75 


do, and in the course of his inspection unwittingly 
touched a concealed spring, which set an alarum 
in motion. Had the machine been a red-hot 
poker, the Frenchman could scarcely have dropped 
it more hastily, and the roars of laughter which 
greeted his subsequent but rueful attempts to 
conceal his dismay, greatly added to his vexation. 

Crossing the bridge which spans the Neckar, 



I obtained from the other side a fine view of 
Heidelberg, its noble castle forming the most 
remarkable object in the landscape. I found, 
however, that the view was not to be obtained 
entirely gratis, and as I was about to recross, be¬ 
came aware of an excited little personage, who 
taxed me with evading the toll. Not being 
aware of the existence of either toll or toll-taker, 











76 


HEIDELBERG. 


Chap. IV. 


I was infinitely amused at the little man’s pertur¬ 
bation. He was evidently unfavourably pre¬ 
judiced against me, watched my every movement 
with the keenest attention, and doubtless con¬ 
sidered me capable of any enormity. 

At Heidelberg I purchased an article of the 
toilet, without which I would recommend no 
man afflicted with a bristly beard to travel on 
the Continent. I allude to a small hand-glass, 
an article of necessity in Germany, for, in my 
experience at least, the little looking-glasses pro¬ 
vided in the bedrooms, were invariably fastened 
to the wall in such a position that they received 
no accession of light, rendering shaving (at all 
times a delicate operation) a matter of extreme 
difficulty. 

After wandering about the town I amused 
myself by lounging in the doorway of the Prinz 
Karl , and watched the substantial but quaint- 
looking citizens who went by, their ideas appa¬ 
rently centred in the bowls of the curious pipes 
in which the Germans delight. Among the wild¬ 
looking students who passed me, I noticed several 
with scarred cheeks, the marks probably of some 
former duel; for these young gentlemen are much 
given to encounters of this kind, which are ad¬ 
mirably adapted to mar whatever little manly 




Chap. IV. 


STUDENTS' DUELS. 


77 


beauty nature may originally have conferred upon 
them. In these little affairs the combatants are 
so carefully protected against the possibility of a 



sword-thrust, that the face is practically the only 
vulnerable part. 

I left Heidelberg in the afternoon and pushed 
on to Baden-Baden; meeting with a Virginian 
for a travelling companion, who, although tho¬ 
roughly Yankee in twang and sentiment, with 



















73 


BADEN-BADEN. 


Chap. IV. 


strong prejudices in favour of the peculiar but 
now abolished “ institution,” was nevertheless a 
well-mannered and agreeable gentleman. He 
seemed astonished at our English antipathy to 
fraternize with strangers, and told me that many 
persons to whom he had addressed a civil question, 
for information’s sake, seemed desperately offended 
at having been spoken to. On the Continent we 
English might very well afford to throw off some 
of our national reserve, seeing that for the most 
part we are likely to meet with respectable persons 
as travelling companions. At home a different 
state of things exists, and as the stranger who 
addresses us may possibly be a pickpocket, there 
is some excuse for an extra amount of caution. 
On the Continent, however, this is hardly the case, 
the persons met with being usually, at least, the 
traveller’s equals in society. My American fellow- 
traveller made a sort of half arrangement with me 
to view the lions of Baden in company; but this 
was never carried out, as he afterwards met some 
lriends and fellow-countrymen, and I was fortunate 
enough to make the acquaintance of an agreeable 
party whom I had last seen at Erankfort. 

The next day was wet and drizzling ; but in 
the evening I betook myself to the Conversations- 
haus, where I found the band about to commence 




Chap. IV. 


GERMAN HELLS. 


79 


its performances. The rooms were comparatively 
empty when I entered, but I had not been long 
there, ere the tables became crowded with gamblers 
and spectators. A considerable proportion of the 
former at these Germans hells are members of 
the softer (?) sex. who are employed as decoys, 
and may be met with after the season is over at 
the Jar din Mabille , and other suchlike resorts. 
I was told that the tables had been unfortunate 
this season, the mystic performance called “ break¬ 
ing the bank” having been practised with such 
success that the enterprising proprietors were said 
to be getting nervous. Gamblers, however, are 
cautious birds, and thoroughly well educated in 
the mysteries of their unhallowed calling. I 
doubt, indeed, whether the bank is ever really 
an appreciable loser when it is said to be broken. 
It pays, no doubt, at times, to make the pigeons 
believe that the luck of the croupiers is not always 
invariable : 

u Said the cunning Sharper to the Flat, ‘ Dear friend, what 
can I do 

To prove the warm and true regard IVe always felt for 
you ? 

I have within my Kursaal good store of all that’s nice, 

I’m sure you’re very welcome—’Tis hot, pray take an 
ice ! 

Now, do walk in!’ the Sharper said, ‘for here you’re 
sure to find 

A host of wealthy beauties —all the gems of womankind. 







8o 


THE PUMP-ROOM. 


Chap. IV. 


I’m sure you’ll make a conquest there among their flutt’ring 
hearts, 

For they seek for men of noble mien, for gentlemen of parts. 

Win freely at your pleasure from my heaps of glitt’ring gold, 

And find that fortune kindly gives her favours to the bold !’ 

‘ I thank you,’ said the Stranger, 1 for what you’re pleased 
to say, 

And wishing you good morning now', I’ll call another day.’ ” 

“ The Sharper turned him round about, and went into his den, 

For well he knew the silly Flat would soon come back 
again: 

So he made a corner ready at his table of roulette, 

Where close by, a brother sharper winning rapidly was set: 

Then he came out to his door again, and said with winning 
wile, 

‘ Come try your fortune, noble Sir, and win this golden 
pile.’ ”* 

Near the Conversationshaus is the Trinkhalle 
or pump-room, which is embellished with fourteen 
frescoes illustrative of the local legends. Murray, 
generally unimpeachable, is at fault, I think, when 
he describes these as indifferent; at any rate I 
rather differ from him on this subject, considering 
as I do that they have some pretensions to merit. 
They are by Goetzenberger, an artist of consider¬ 
able local reputation. 1 he legends they illustrate 
are, with some few exceptions, interesting, and a 
clue to them may be obtained in a little work 
published at Carlsruhe, which can be purchased 

* From “ Going to the ‘Bad’” in Vol. xiv. “All the Year 
Round.” 





Chap. IV. 


THE OLD CASTLE. 


81 


in the immediate neighbourhood of the Trink- 
halle. 

It was late when I left the Kursaal, and the 
stifling rooms were perfectly ablaze with light. A 
deep silence prevailed in these halls of Mammon 
broken only by the chink of gold and silver, the 
click of the roulette-tables, and the monotonous 
sing-song of the croupiers. Fortunately for my 
own peace of mind I have a dislike to games of 
chance, and so the mysteries of roulette and 
rouge-et-noir remain sealed to me. I felt, indeed, 
not the slightest temptation to try my luck, feeling 
that where ignorance is bliss ’twere the veriest 
folly to be wise. 

The rain passed off' in the night, and a brilliant 
but warm day followed. The road to the old 
castle of Baden led me through a shady wood, 
and without this shelter a walk in the broiling sun 
would have proved far from agreeable. Parties 
of visitors, mostly Germans, were seated outside 
the walls, all, notwithstanding the early hour of 
the day, busily occupied in eating and drinking. 
I found a startling notice affixed to the entrance- 
gate ; it had been “ done into ” English, and re¬ 
quested visitors to abstain from smoking on the 
premises, to prevent the occurrence of “ a second 
inflammation .” The meaning of so mysterious a 

G 




82 


SINGULAR NOTICE. 


Chap. IV. 


document must for ever remain shrouded in un¬ 
certainty. The result of my own meditations on 
the purport and origin of this proclamation is, 
that possibly a fire might have occurred, which 
(for want of a better reason) had been attributed 
to a spark from a pipe or fusee,—and that this 
curious notice was probably drawn up by some 
local English professor in the hope of preventing 
a recurrence of the disaster. 

The castle properly so called, to distinguish it 
from a few modern rooms utterly devoid of in¬ 
terest, is a mere shell; but the view from the 
ruined walls is magnificent, and alone amply re¬ 
paid the walk. The Black Forest, the town of 
Baden, hills, valleys, and smiling villages, lay 
spread out around me in a vast and seemingly 
boundless panorama of beauty. 

On my way back I called at the “ new castle,” 
a somewhat strange title, considering that it was 
built some time in the fifteenth century; but so 
named to distinguish it from the more ancient 
stronghold first mentioned. It is difficult to 
realize the fact that its well-furnished and elegant 
rooms are built over some of the most horrible 
dungeons in the world. Most Baden visitors are 
acquainted with these dens, and my powers of 
description are quite inadequate to convey any 




Ch. IV. DUNGEONS OF THE NEW CASTLE. 83 


just idea of their horrors. A narrow shaft runs 
up the centre of the building, down which I be¬ 
lieve it was the practice to lower unhappy victims 
in a chair or basket into the vaults beneath. The 
dungeons are very complete, and you pass from 
the torture-room into the judgment-hall bordered 
by stone seats, hard and cold as the hearts of 
those who once presided there in judgment. This 
again leads into a den, the entrance to which is 
barred by a massive block of stone which swings 
on its rusty hinge with a melancholy croak, 
strangely suggestive of a groan. Not a ray of 
light penetrates this abode of terror ; and at one 
end is a niche once occupied by a crucifix, while 
in the stone floor immediately beneath an oubliette 
was constructed, the mouth of which was covered 
by a trap-door. The victim whose fate was sealed 
was ordered, or it may be lured, under a promise 
of pardon, to kiss the symbol of mercy, and as he 
stepped forward in the direction indicated was 
precipitated upon a revolving cylinder studded 
with razor-blades. In these days of sickening 
sympathy with criminals it is difficult to belie\ e 
that man could ever have been so diabolically 
cruel to his fellow-man. Let any one anxious to 
realize the meaning of the phrase darkness 
visible,” when next he visits Baden request the 

g 2 




8 4 


GERMAN POLITENESS. Chap. IV. 


guide to take away the lamp and immure him for 
one minute in the castle dungeons, and when he 
comes forth again into the light of God’s heaven 
he will be able to realize in some faint degree the 
feelings of a prisoner of the age when these dens 
and oubliettes were in fashion. 

I walked to the old castle again the following 
day, with the party I have before incidentally re¬ 
ferred to. In the evening we went to a promenade- 
concert in the Kursaal grounds. The company 
was numerous and fashionable, and the demand 
for seats very great. We unfortunately arrived 
late, and vainly tried for some time to provide 
our lady-friends with chairs, for some of the 
gallant gentlemen who honoured the assembly 
with their presence refused to part with those 
which sustained their legs, on the plea that they 
were thus retained for the use of expected friends. 
I was not forcibly struck with the politeness of 
these noble foreigners, when I ascertained, as I 
subsequently did in more than one instance, that 
the excuse was a mere fiction. 

The next day I left Baden for Freiburg, to 
which station my friends accompanied me en 
route to Lucerne; and here I parted with them, 
it being my own intention to pass on to Schafi- 
hausen by way of the Hollenthal, and ultimately 











Chap. IV. A FREIBURG UMBRELLA. 


85 


work my way into Northern Italy via the 
Splugen. 

I arrived at Freiburg late in the evening, and 
had neither time nor inclination for sight-seeing. I 
did, however, see the outside of the cathedral, and 
a monument to Schwartz, to whom some portion 
of the world imputes the invention of gunpowder. 
A worthy citizen, who seemed implicitly to believe 
in the genuineness of these pretensions, noticing 
that I w r as a stranger, took some pains to place 
me in the best position for viewing the statue, 
and drew my attention, with evident pride, to the 
expression the sculptor had managed to impart 
to the stony features. Warned by past experience, 
I purchased here a Freiburg umbrella, a most 
quaint and curious-looking machine, the best 
however I could get, and for which the considerate 
tradesman only charged me five times its actual 
commercial value. I think it was its eccentric 
appearance which caused me to take such care of 
it, for, wonderful to relate, I never lost it, but 
brought it home with me—a perfect wreck indeed 
of what it once had been, its spine being broken, 
and nearly every rib fractured. 

The next morning proved a soaker, but 
after weighing the arguments pro and con, I came 
to the conclusion that it was better to move 



86 


A SOAKING DA K 


Chap. IV. 


onwards than to be weather-bound at so dull a 
place as Freiburg. At an early hour, therefore, 
I betook myself to the Schaffhausen diligence, 
but found to my confusion that all the places 
were already engaged; and I was obliged to con¬ 
tent myself with a seat in a dirty, unsavoury 
“ leather conveniency ” ycleped the supplement. 
In this uncomfortable vehicle I found myself 
boxed up with a blear-eyed agriculturist and a 
couple of awkward girls, his daughters, and their 
combined breath, highly seasoned with garlic, did 
not add to my comfort, or to the salubrity of 
the atmosphere of the interior. My misery was 
great, and I awaited with impatience the first 
favourable opportunity for escape which might 
present itself. 

About an hour after we left Freiburg the 
clouds began to break; patches of blue sky ap¬ 
peared, sufficient in quantity to construct any 
amount of inexpressibles for redundant Dutch¬ 
men ; and the sun shone forth so brightly, that I 
was led to indulge in the delusive hope that a 
fine day was about to follow. Deceived by the 
treacherous sunbeams, and glad to escape from 
the garlic-scented atmosphere of the supplement, 

I now mounted to the roof of the diligence : but 
had hardly taken my seat, ere the rain poured 




Chap. IV. FREIBURG TO SCHAFFHA USEN. 87 


down again heavier than before; I could not, 
however, summon up sufficient resolution to 
return to my black hole of Calcutta, for here at 
least an inexhaustible supply of pure air was 
obtainable, and the beauty and grandeur of the 
scenery increased so greatly as we approached the 
Hollenthal, or valley of hell, that I resolved to 
remain.where I was; and, thanks to a plaid and 
my Freiburg umbrella, contrived to weather 
the pitiless storm better than I might have ex¬ 
pected. The hail pattered down upon my head 
and shoulders like small shot, and the foaming 
Dreisam, swollen into a furious torrent by the 
deluge of rain, rushed down the infernal valley 
with an angry roar. At the next stage I descended, 
and having qualified the damp atmosphere with a 
strong mixture of cognac and water, intimated to 
the conductor my disinclination to return to my 
reeking perch. As I followed up the remark with 
a small donation, my meaning was better under¬ 
stood, and, in a marvellously short space of time, 
another “supplement” was added to the convoy ; 
and in this vehicle I travelled, alone and in 
comfort, until the halt of the whole caravan for re¬ 
freshment. After dinner, the wonderful properties 
of my two-franc piece were once more made 
manifest, for a vacant place was found for me in 




88 


A SINGULAR RECEPTION Chap. IV. 


the coupe, where I took care to remain till we 
arrived at our destination 

My journey had been a sort of “ Pilgrim’s 
Progress.” I had traversed the “ heavenly region,” 
and “ the valley of hell ;” and after passing a 
pretty but desolate and solitary-looking lake 
called the Titi See, came at length to the “ hill 
of difficulty,” for we were all obliged to get out 
and ascend the same on foot. 

1 did not leave the diligence at the “ Rhine 
Falls,” as I should have done, but ignorantly went 
on to Schaffhausen, and arrived there, directed 

my portmanteau to be taken to the-. 

Independence seemed to be the order of the day 
at this hostelry. I waited a considerable time 
before it pleased the proprietor, head-waiter, 
manager, or whatever might have been his title, 
to conduct me to a bedroom. When this func¬ 
tionary thought it consonant with the due pre¬ 
servation of his dignity to find me one, it appeared 
so dirty and objectionable that I petitioned for 

better accommodation. My friend, however, 

* 

flatly refused, and told me, in a dignified and 
impressive manner, that if the room did not suit 
me I was welcome to go elsewhere. Of course I 
took the impertinent fellow at his word, and 
quitted his inhospitable roof, fortunately meeting 





Chap. IV. 


THE RHINE FALLS. 


89 


at the door an omnibus belonging to and driven 
by the landlord of the Bellevue , at which inn I 
obtained a most comfortable apartment over¬ 
looking mine ancient friend the Rhine. Its noble 
falls were immediately below me, the clear moon¬ 
light imparting to the waters the appearance of 
a surging boiling mass of molten silver. 



( 9 ° ) 


CHAPTER V. 

Daylight Impressions of Schaffhausen—The Falls of the Rhine 
—Scanty Attendance at Table d’Hote—On the Rhine again 
—Lake of Constance — St. Gall — St. Gall to Ragatz — A 
Friendly Greeting—Hof Ragatz—Swarms of English Tourists 
—The Gorge of the Tamina — Baths of Ffaffers—Lost at 
Coire—Coire to Tusis — An Awkward Intrusion—Tusis to 
Splugen — The Via Mala — The Splugen Pass — Fall of the 
Madesimo — Beggars — Chiavenna—Chiavenna to Colico — 
Beggarly Reception — Como — Camerlata to Milan — Thence 
to Venice—Night “ Effect.” 

EADY cash having be¬ 
come scanty, I called with a 
letter of credit upon Tobias 
Hurter of Schaffhausen, 
and obtained from him 
change of a circular note. 
The worthy money-changer 
was a kind and genial old 
fellow. He combined bank¬ 
ing with his other pursuits, 
and kept a general shop, 
dealing in almost every con¬ 
ceivable article from a far¬ 
thing rushlight to a gold napoleon. 

My daylight impressions of Schaffhausen were 





Chap. V. THE FALLS OF THE RHLNE. 


9 1 


far from favourable; the streets were very irre¬ 
gular and particularly unclean. Public spirit had 
made no perceptible advance in this benighted 
place, everything indeed savoured of the antique ; 
gas was unknown, and venerable oil-lamps sus¬ 
pended by chains across the streets served to 
enlighten the darkness of the natives. As I passed 

the-, the whole staff of waiters were 

lounging in the doorway, evidently out of work, 
and among them I had the satisfaction of behold¬ 
ing my polite friend of the previous night. He 
also recognized myself, and the ghastly grin with 
which he greeted me by no means improved the 
naturally amiable and benevolent expression which 
pervaded his features. 

The object of my visit to S chaff hausen at¬ 
tained, I returned to the Bellevue , and following a 
path which led me through a vineyard planted on 
the slope of the steep hill whereon the hotel is built, 
reached the river-bank below, and found myself 
on a level with and exactly opposite the falls. 

The appearance of the cataract is grand, view 
it whence you may; but no adequate notion can 
be formed of its breadth and volume until you 
cross the water and behold it from the grounds of 
the Chateau Laufen, a picturesque villa which 
crowns the height opposite the Bellevue . I paid 









92 


A TABLE D'HOTE. 


Chap. V. 


a franc to enter the grounds, and descending the 
rock, reached a strong wooden gallery or platform 
projecting into the waters. Viewed from hence, 
the appearance of the vast wall of boiling surging 
foam absolutely borders on the terrific. A couple 
of rocks rise from the midst of the fall; and on 
one of these some Vandal has erected a ghastly 
scarecrow, which, by way of aggravation, has been 
dubbed William Tell. With care it is practi¬ 
cable for a boat to reach this rock; and some ad¬ 
venturous spirits were bold enough to attempt the 
feat in my presence. The scenery is by no means 
improved by the railway bridge, which spans the 
Rhine immediately above the falls; but mere 
beauty must, I presume, ever yield to utility. It is 
strange, however, to behold a train gliding, spectre¬ 
like, across the chasm, the sound being completely 
drowned in the overwhelming roar of the water. 

The guests at to-day’s table cTliote included 
only a German and myself. The Bellevue did 
not appear to be overwhelmed with custom, which 
both the host and hostess deserved. Thanks to 
their kindness, I spent a most agreeable time at 
their inn; and if cleanliness, moderate charges, 
and comfort will ensure success, the patience of 
the landlord of the Bellevue cannot fail to be 
ultimately rewarded. I regret, however, to be 





Chap. V. 


ON THE RHINE AGAIN 


93 


obliged to add, that had not Murray depreciated 
its large and formidable rival, the Hotel Webber ,* 
the little inn might have been compelled, for lack 
of custom, to close its hospitable doors. I sin¬ 
cerely trust that this disastrous result has not 
been attained, for the civil host and the clean and 
smiling hostess deserved a better fate. 

At half-past nine the next morning I left dirty 
primitive Schaffhausen, and once more embarked 
on the Rhine; the scenery of which, although 
interesting, contrasts very unfavourably with 
that of the same river as it flows from Bonn 
to Coblentz. The most noteworthy object of 
interest en route was Gottlieben Castle, the ancient 
prison-house of the murdered Huss. About mid¬ 
way we met the steamer bound for the Lake of 
Constance, and not suspecting the state of the 
case, I narrowly escaped being brought back 
to Schaffhausen, but fortunately followed my 
luggage, just as they were about to remove the 
plank which connected the steamers. 

I was on the whole much disappointed with 
the Lake of Constance, the general characteristic 
of which was dreary monotony, somewhat relieved 

* Murray would appear to have dealt rather hardly with this 
establishment, as I have heard travellers speak of it in the 
highest terms. 




94 


ST GALL TO RAGATZ. 


Chap. V. 


as we neared Rorschach. I must at the same 
time admit that I saw it under peculiar disad¬ 
vantages, a hazy atmosphere prevailing the whole 
time I was crossing. But for the depressing ap¬ 
pearance of everything, I think I should have 
halted at Constance ; but as the “ Practical Guide,” 
after its pithy manner, described it as “ a decayed 
city full of buildings of the fifteenth century,” I 
came to the conclusion that it could be scarcely 
considered part of my mission to go there. I 
therefore went on to Rorschach, where I landed, 
and proceeded by rail to St. Gall or St. Gallen, a 
wonderfully quaint and curious town. Many of 
the houses are embellished with grotesque carvings, 
some of which are so irresistibly droll and comic 
that a ramble through the streets is quite as mirth- 
provoking as an album of Cruikshank’s earlier 
drawings. St. Gall is the great emporium for 
Swiss muslins, some handsome specimens of which 
ornamented the windows of the hotel. 

After remaining two nights at St. Gall, I 
pushed onwards by rail to Ragatz, meeting at 
one of the stations a gentleman and his wife 
whom I had known in London. The meeting 
was unexpected on both sides, but the greeting 
they accorded me was truly national in character ; 
and had we met in the streets of the metropolis, 





Chap. V. 


RA GA TZ. 


95 


or wandered for the past six weeks together in 
close companionship, my friends could scarcely 
have taken it more as a mere matter of course. 
Smoking was the order of the day in the second- 
class carriage they entered, and the natives in¬ 
dulged in the luxury to such an extent, that my 
frigid friends were speedily driven to seek shelter 
in a first-class compartment. Before leaving 
they tried to induce me to accompany them to 
Venice, but I was afraid of being frozen in such 
company, and declined the invitation with thanks. 
The scenery along the line of rail was wild and 
grand, and the stupendous snow-capped Alps 
began at length to reveal themselves. 

I would recommend the invalid, worn and 
wearied with mental labour, and panting for pure 
fresh wholesome air, to seek it at Ragatz. Go 
where he will, I believe he will nowhere lay in a 
better or purer supply of this most necessary and 
agreeable tonic. No place has left a more favour¬ 
able impression on my mind than Ragatz. It 
lies in a valley bounded by grand and lofty peaks, 
at the entrance of a well-wooded and savage 
gorge, through which the river Tamina rushes, 
and which is so narrow, that even in its widest 
part the sun’s influence is but little felt. The 
hotel I had selected for my head-quarters (there 


9 6 


ENGLISH TOURISTS. 


Chap. V 


is but one I think) was the Hof Rag at which is 
delightfully situated and comfortable. 

Ascending a height in the rear of the village, 
crowned with a picturesque ruin, I obtained a 
panoramic view of the surrounding country; 
amongst the lofty mountains forming (unless my 



geographical reminiscences deceive me) part of 
the range of the Rhastian Alps, are two con¬ 


spicuous peaks, which my curt companion, the 
“ Practical Guide,” told me were the Falkniss, 
8000, and the Calanda, or Galanda, 8500 feet. 

The Hof Ragalz was literally swarming with 
English tourists. Groups of ladies were em- 






















Chap. V. THE BATHS OF TEA PEERS. 


97 


ployed in exhibiting to each other their sketches, 
mutually comparing travelling notes, or quizzing 
their fellow-tourists of either sex. Perhaps the 
most merry of the group was the vicar of a 
populous London parish, who told me that he 
had availed himself of the opportunity held out 
to him of performing the Church of England 
service here for a few weeks, to obtain change of 
air and scene, and a respite from his onerous 
duties at home. His only regular companion 
was the Roman Catholic priest of the village, 
with whom he conversed in writing, for the 
Anglican clergyman was ignorant of German, 
and their mutual pronunciation of the dead lan¬ 
guage so entirely differed, that they found it 
otherwise impossible to hold an intelligible con¬ 
versation together. 

At an early hour the next morning I set out 
for the Baths of Ffaffers. The scenery of the 
Tamina Gorge, through which my route lay, was 
wild and savage in the extreme ; nearly every 
turn and angle of the road revealed a cascade 
falling in a broad stream from the heights above, 
but dashing into showers of spray ere it reached 
the roaring waters of the river beneath. Some 
of these cascades presented a most picturesque 
appearance, their rocky channels being bordeied 


u 


H 





9 8 


THE BATHS OF FFAFFERS. Chap. V. 


by lofty pines, growing in every conceivable 
position, the ceaseless spray affording them super¬ 
abundant nourishment. A sombre light pervaded 
the pass, which deepened as I advanced, the sides 
gradually contracting as I approached the baths. 

Entering the bath-house, I traversed a long 
corridor, and, after descending some steps, found 
myself on a wooden gallery or platform, at the 
mouth of the cavern whence the hot spring 
issues. The sides of this cave, wide at the base, 
gradually narrow as they ascend, until the rocky 
sides eventually meet together and form a sharp 
angular roof. The interior is strongly suggestive 
of the infernal regions, except that the air is 
perhaps somewhat too chilly; and the gloomy 
sepulchral light, the gurgling roaring water at 
the bottom of the cave, and the steam arising 
from the hot spring, together present a complete 
picture of horror. The wooden platform, which 
is carried along the sides of the cavern, enabled 
me to penetrate to its furthest recesses. The 
gallery shook and vibrated with the violence of 
the rushing roaring water beneath, and here and 
there the wet dripped from above in the form of 
a tiny cascade, plentifully besprinkling me as 1 
ran past it. At the further extremity I peeped 
through a sort of little doorway from which thick 





Chap. V. 


LOST AT COIRE . 


99 


volumes of steam arose, and called to mind how 
Mercy peered through a similar doorway “ in the 
side of the hill,” and snuffed the sulphurous 
fumes, which arose from a very different and 
intensely warmer locality. 

Returned to Ragatz, I had barely time to 
swallow a hasty dinner, and to catch the train for 
Coire, was obliged to leave before the tedious 
routine of the table d'hote had ended. Finding 
it necessary to recruit the supplies, after engaging 
a phaeton to convey me to Tusis, I started, under 
the guidance of the boots of the Steinbock , in 
search of the gentleman to whom my letter of 
credit was directed. Having piloted me in safety 
my conductor basely deserted, and left me to 
retrace my steps as best I could, a matter of no 
small difficulty to one who has already owned to 
a deficiency in regard to the organ of locality. 
Somehow every street seemed to be the very 
counterpart of its neighbour, whilst to my heated 
imagination, the worthy townspeople themselves 
appeared to wear a strong family likeness. How¬ 
ever, after many tries back, I fell into the right 
track at last, and found the vehicle I had engaged 
awaiting my return at the door of the Steinbock. 

The drive from Coire to Tusis is a very in¬ 
teresting one, and I was prepared to enjoy it 




H 2 



loo 


COIRE TO TUSIS. 


Chap. V- 


thoroughly: vain and delusive hope, doomed 
only to bitter disappointment ! I had been 
hitherto favoured with a lovely day, but soon 
after leaving Coire the weather began to show 
symptoms of change ; heavy lowering masses of 
vapour collected, and very shortly I had it in 
fine style. The rain came down in such torrents 
that, to protect myself from a thorough drench¬ 
ing, I was compelled to close the leathern cur¬ 
tains, thus shutting out the rain, and with it, of 
course, the lovely scenery. Not for an instant 
did the pitiless storm abate during the remainder 
of my journey, so effectually damping the pleasure 
I had anticipated, that it was a positive relief to 
reach my destination. The bright sun, which 
penetrated my bedroom, awoke me on the fol¬ 
lowing morning, and I sprang out of bed, re¬ 
joicing at the prospect of my intended passage of 
the Via Mala. 

Breakfast over, I retained a small open vehicle 
to take me to Splugen. Before leaving Tusis I 
made an awkward mistake, and unwittingly in¬ 
truded myself among three artists of the softer 
sex. Opening, as I supposed (and certainly in¬ 
tended), the door of the salle-a-manger , I found 
myself, to my alarm and horror, in their bedroom, 
the floor of which was in a wonderful state of 





Chap. V. AN AIVKJVARD INTRUSION. 


TOT 


confusion, and littered with palettes, easels, the 
scattered contents of trunks, and other appurte¬ 
nances of the fair artists, who were themselves 
hard at work in an admirable state of deshabille. 
The sight was enough to unnerve most men, and 
I stammered out what must have appeared a lame 



apology, for it was received with a bad grace, the 
ladies—who, by the way, were not specially re¬ 
markable for their good looks—evidently suspect¬ 
ing that my intrusion was not altogether accidental. 

The whole of the route from Tusis to Splugen 
abounded with scenery of the most beautiful, 
varied, and picturesque character; and on every 









































L O 2 


THE VIA MALA. 


Chap. V. 


hand appeared cascades, pine forests, and lofty 
peaks capped with snow. Unaccustomed as I 
then was to such stupendous gorges, the Via Mala 
produced an effect upon my mind which can 
never be effaced. The rocks which on either side 
bordered this tremendous and savage defile seemed 
as if they had been literally rent asunder by a 
wedge of superhuman power; and the roadway, 
which is channeled out of one of the rocky sides, 
is rendered safe and secure by the strong parapet 
with which it is guarded. Far, very far, below— 
nearly, indeed, imperceptible to the sight, but 
convincing the ear of its presence'—ran my old 
acquaintance the Rhine, now reduced from its 
former magnificent volume to a comparatively 
narrow stream. In three different portions of the 
route it was crossed by bridges, and in one in¬ 
stance the road itself was tunnelled through the 
solid rock. The defile of the Via Mala commenced 
shortly after leaving Tusis, and ended somewhere 
about the little village of Zillis, a distance alto¬ 
gether of some four or five miles. 

u You enter upon this savage pass from a 
world of beauty, from the sunlit vale of Domsch- 
leg, under the old Etruscan cascade .of Realt, 
spiked in the cliff like a war-club, four hundred 
feet above you, and totally inaccessible on every 





Chap. V. 


THE SPLUGEN PASS. 


103 


side but one. Passing this from Tusis you are 
plunged at once into a scene of such concentrated 
and deep sublimity, such awe-inspiring grandeur, 
such overwhelming power, that you advance 
slowly and solemnly as if every crag were a super¬ 
natural being looking at you. The road is with 
great daring carried along the perpendicular face 
of crags, being cut from the rock where no living 
thing could have scaled the mountain ; and some¬ 
times it completely overhangs the abyss a thousand 
feet above the raging torrent. Now it pierces the 
rock, now it runs zigzag, now spans the gorge on 
a light dizzy bridge; now the mountains frown on 
each other like tropical thunder-clouds about to 
meet and discharge their artillery. And now you 
come upon mighty insulated crags thrown wildly 
together, covered with fringes of moss and shrub¬ 
bery, and constituting vast masses of verdure.”* 

I arrived at Splugen about five o’clock. My 
mountain journey had produced a vigorous appe¬ 
tite. and I learnt with satisfaction that dinner was 
being prepared, and would be ready on the arrival 
of the Coire diligence, which was momentarily 
expected. I had no long time to wait, and in 
about half-an-hour the distant music of the 

* “Wanderings of a Pilgrim in the Shadow of the Jungfrau 
Alp.” Page 339. 








io4 


ARRIVAL OF COIRE DILIGENCE. Ch. V. 


horses’ bells, and the pistol-like cracks of the 
driver’s whip, announced its approach. From my 
elevated post of observation—the gallery ot my 
bedroom, which, as usual, was situated in close 
proximity to the roof—I watched for the appear¬ 
ance of the ponderous vehicle on the crest of the 
opposite hill, down which it plunged with appa¬ 
rently suicidal speed. By the time I had descended 
it had already reached the inn-door, and I assisted 
a lady and her daughters to descend from the 
co 2 ipd , in whom I recognized some of the tourists 
1 had met at Ragatz. They now hailed me as an 
old acquaintance, and having ascertained in the 
course of our conversation that as far as Como 
our route was identical, the elder lady was good 
enough to offer me a seat in her conveyance. I, 
of course, gratefully accepted the offer, and con¬ 
gratulated myself on escaping the miseries of the 
diligence, with its attendant evil of uncomfortably 
early rising. 

The fine summer evening tempted me to 
retrace my steps over a portion of the ground I 
had traversed in the morning. I was struck 
with the absolute solitude and silence of the 
mountains. Here and there, indeed, the all-per¬ 
vading stillness was broken by the brawling 
waters of some torrent, which sounded weird-like 










Chap. V. CANINE DEMONSTRATIONS. 



and awful in the otherwise uninterrupted repose 
of nature. Occasionally some peasants and their 
dogs passed me, and judging from the furious 

manner in which 
these brutes attacked 
me, Swiss or rather 
Splugen dogs would 
seem to entertain an 
aversion for foreign¬ 
ers. To prevent the 
recurrence of these 
canine demonstra¬ 
tions, I found it ne¬ 
cessary to provide 
myself with a stout 

J 

I 

cudgel, a potent 
weapon which ope¬ 
rated like an en¬ 
chanter’s wand, and 
caused the irascible 
curs I afterwards encountered to regard me with 
peculiar veneration and respect. 

Shortly after five o’clock the next morning 
I was awoke by the jingling of bells, and the loud 
cracks of a whip, repeated and multiplied by the 
echoes of the surrounding mountains. I recon¬ 
noitred the state of affairs from my balcony, and 









THE DILIGENCE. 


Chap. V. 


106 

with a feeling of self-congratulation at having 
escaped so much discomfort, beheld the passengers 
taking their seats in the departing diligence. As 
far as I could judge from my lofty position, they 
looked unhappy, as people are apt to feel when 
they are obliged to rise at an uncomfortably 
early hour; and the drizzling murky atmosphere 
which pervaded all things, and which would 
certainly veil from their eyes the terrific grandeur 
and sublime beauties of the Splugen, was by no 
means calculated to soothe their ruffled feelings. 

The general appearance of everything was 
sufficiently uncomfortable to render even the 
prospect of my own journey far from enjoyable. 
1 was careful however to keep my misgivings to 
myself, as the elder lady (a thorough tourist) 
entertained a sovereign contempt for wet weather, 
which she evinced by ordering an open vehicle 
to take us on to Chiavenna. The rain fortu¬ 
nately proved a mere mountain mist, for as we 
advanced it cleared entirely away, and we were 
afterwards favoured with lovely weather. The 
road winding upwards in a series of abrupt zig¬ 
zags brought us after much labour and toil to 
the summit of the pass. The descent which 
followed bordered on the terrific, and our car¬ 
riage and horses rushed down the tourniquets 



Chap. V. 


A TERRIFIC DESCENT. 


107 



—as these abrupt turnings are called—with ex¬ 
traordinary velocity. As we literally spun round 

the acute angles of 
the road we beheld 
chalets and hamlets re¬ 
duced to mere specks 
and patches in the im¬ 
measurable depths be¬ 
low us. My compa¬ 
nions at times could 
not restrain their eja¬ 
culations of dismay, 
notwithstanding our 
Jehu’s assurances that 
there was not the slight¬ 
est danger, and that the 
pace was nothing com¬ 
pared with the speed 
with which the daily 
diligence accomplished 
the journey. Involun¬ 
tarily I thanked my 
stars that I had not in¬ 
trusted myself to the 
care of that top-heavy and lumbering vehicle, the 
progress of which down the tourniquets must be 
strangely suggestive of the gambols ol an elephant. 

























108 AUSTRIAN OFFICIALS. Chap. V. 

About midway we reached the Austrian 
Dogana, where our passports were examined and 
pronounced sufficient. It has been the fashion 
with most travellers to decry the Austrian officials, 
but I must say a good word for these gentlemen, 
who were very civil, and gave us no trouble in 
reference to our luggage. They asked us whether 
we were English, and on receiving our reply, 
required only one of the boxes to be opened for 
form’s sake, but did not trouble themselves, or 
annoy the lady to whom it belonged, by over¬ 
hauling its contents. 

After leaving the Dogana we traversed some 
tunnels constructed of solid masonry, and intended 
to protect the road and travellers from being ob¬ 
literated by the avalanches. In winter-time the 
pass is even now accounted dangerous, but when 
the route lay, as it formerly did, through the 
gorge of the Cardinel, where the winter avalanches 
hang so nicely poised that the mere sighing of 
the wind will suffice to dislodge and send them 
thundering from their rocky ledges, the passage 
was a perfect Golgotha of terrors. It was by this 
terrible gorge, as every schoolboy knows, that 
Macdonald led his adventurous army on their 
way to Alarengo ; and when it is considered that 
his memorable march was made in the depth of 


Chap. V. 


A TERRIBLE GORGE. 


109 


winter, and at a time when a furious tempest 
swept through the gulf, and precipitated ava¬ 
lanche after avalanche on the heads of his devoted 
columns, it is at least difficult to believe Sir 

Archibald Alison when he tells us, that only one 

• * 

hundred soldiers and as many horses and mules 

were hurled into the mountain abysses. I think 

* 

the most touching episode of this passage of 
horrors, was the fate of the poor little drummer 
lad, related by Dr. Cheever. A torrent of snow 
had carried the poor little fellow with it into the 
gulf, but he managed to scramble out alive, 
though far out of the reach and sight of his com¬ 
rades, who, as they marched drearily onwards, 
were startled by the distant roll of his drum, which 
the poor lad beat in the vain hope of rescue. 
“ His martial instrument had often roused his 
fellow-soldiers with fierce courage to the attack, 
but now it was his own funeral march he was 
beating, and it sounded like a death summons 
for the whole army into this frightful Hades, 
if another avalanche should thunder down. 
There was no reaching him, and Death with 
icy fingers stilled the roll of the drum, and 
beat out the last pulsations of hope and life 
in his bosom !” 

Crossing a bridge over the Ler, the graceful 






I IO 


FALL OF THE MADESLMO. Chap. V. 


fall of the Madesimo revealed itself, tumbling- 
eight hundred and seventy feet below. From the 


parapet wall immediately above we obtained an 




excellent downward view of this lovely cascade as 
it fell into the valley beneath. We threw a large 
stone into the waters, in which it became lost, 
as I supposed, but much to my astonishment 
it suddenly reappeared at an enormous distance 
below, shot out as it were from a catapult, and 
ricochetted from crag to crag till it was dashed 
into the minutest fragments. We were driven 
from our position by a sortie of beggars, some of 
whom, to purchase our compassion and bespeak 
alms, offered us a perfect cairn of missiles to be 
launched into the Madesimo. We declined con¬ 
tinuing the amusement under such auspices, and 
hurried away, for the ladies shrank from the touch 
of these Italian beggars, who were in a state of 
filth wonderful to witness but extremely difficult 
to describe. 

Further on, at the village of Campo Dolcino, 
we discharged our driver and engaged another 
coachman, carriage, and horses, to take us to 
Chiavenna, where we arrived about 4 p.m. Din¬ 
ner over, we visited a neighbouring vineyard 
overhung with bunches of large purple grapes 
temptingly ripe, and afterwards wended our way 



Chap. V. 


CHI A VENN A. 


111 


to the church of San Lorenzo, the principal 
characteristic of which was extreme dirt. Within 
the enclosure (I cannot bring myself to designate 
it churchyard), there were a couple of bone 
houses crammed with innumerable skulls: a label 
was affixed to each, inscribed, I suppose, with the 
name of the person who once thought and 
breathed within it. 

We left Chiavenna the next morning by 
Vetturino for Colico, where we were received by 
an assemblage of beggars all exceedingly dirty— 
some of them, indeed, perfectly loathsome and 
disgusting objects. Repugnance quite overcame 
our feelings of compassion. The audacity and 
importunity of these wretched beings knew 
no bounds. One of the number, a miserable 
boy, with a goitre twice the size of his head, 
was particularly annoying to us. In the hope 
of extorting contributions he actually barred 
our passage into the filthy inn at which we 
dined. 

I was delighted with the varied and beautiful 
scenery of Lake Como. The lofty background 
of mountains, the banks studded with picturesque 
towns and villages, and the clear azure sky and 
waters, together produced a landscape in which 
the beauties of Italy and Switzerland seemed—as 




I I 2 


THE LAKE COMO. 


Chap. V. 


it were—to vie with each other. My enjoyment 
was, however, tempered with regret, tor at Bellagio 
I parted with the agreeable friends in whose com¬ 
pany I had lately travelled. 

Leaning over the gallery which borders the 
courtyard of the Corona at Como, I heard a tine 
manly voice singing the then favourite airs ot 
the Trovatore and Traviata operas in masterly 
stvle. I have often listened when the same airs 

J 

have been sung with every splendid accessory ot 
music and scenery, but never with such true 
delight as I experienced when I heard them 
in the bare and unpretending courtyard of the 
albergo at Como. 

Contrary to my usual custom, I awoke so late 
on the following morning, that I had scarcely 
time to swallow a hasty breakfast, and nearly 
missed the omnibus for Camerlata. I found the 
driver and passengers (to my mortification) in 
quite an excited condition at being detained so 
long. From Camerlata I went on by rail to 
Milan, and took a ticket thence to Venice. I 
traversed a beautiful country, obtaining from the 
carriage window an excellent view of the Lago di 
Garda, along the whole length of which the line 
skirted. Independently of their natural loveliness, 
the clear blue skv lends an increased charm to 

J 


Chap. V. THE GONDOLIERS OE VENICE. in 

the beauty of these Italian lakes, the waters of 
which, when viewed from a distance, are tinted 
with the most exquisite aqua marine. 

I found myself in no position to profit by the 
Practical Guide’s advice, to quit the rail at Mestre, 
“ and enter Venice by gondola, a four miles’ row, 
for the effect.” It being ten o’clock at night 
when I arrived, and every object enveloped in the 
sombre robe of darkness, the “ effect”—so far, at 
least, as I was personally concerned—would only 
have been profound disappointment. At the 
station I engaged a gondola to carry me to the 
Vittoria . There was literally nothing to be seen, 
and the all-pervading silence was broken only by 
the splash of our oars, and the occasional voices 
of my own and other gondoliers, mutually warn¬ 
ing each other of their approach. Considering 
the narrow tortuous lanes of water through which 
we shot, the many sharp angles we had to cir¬ 
cumvent, the pitchy darkness of the night, and 
the scores of gondolas and other boats which 
passed us every instant, or crossed our very bows, 
it was a subject of marvel to me that we met with 
no collision. We were furnished, it is true, with 
a small lantern; but this can scarcely be said to 
have been of much service, for instead of being 
stationed in our bows, it was placed at the bottom 


kk 


i 





114 THE GONDOLIERS OF VENICE. Chap. V. 


of the boat; for all practical purposes, indeed, it 
was wholly useless. I was told, however, that 
accidents are rare, and the gondoliers appeared to 
be as much at home in the watery lanes of Venice, 
as our cabbies are in the streets of London. 



( T T 5 ) 


CHAPTER VI. 


Venice—Doge’s Palace—Dens for the Enemies of the Republic 
—Bridge of Sighs — The Jesuits’ Church — Palazzo Giovan- 
nelli—Cafe Florian — The Pigeons — Madame Ristori—A 
Street Fight — Church of St. Mark — The Frari Church — 
Divers—Austrian Compliments—Table d’Hote—Milan again 
—The Cathedral—The Brera—Arco della Pace—Scala— 
Capolago—Lugano—Luino—Passport demanded—Magadino 
—A“ Scene” at the Inn. 



OR the past 
few days I had 
been troubled 
with symp¬ 
toms of cho¬ 
lera, of which 
I had taken 
but little no¬ 
tice; but they 
now became 
so formidable that I felt I could no longer safely 
neglect them. I deemed it prudent, therefore, to 
send for Dr. Namias, who immediately attended in 




I 2 
























































VENICE. 


Chap. VI. 


ii 6 


his gondola, and under his skilful treatment I 
found myself on the morrow sufficiently recovered 
to resume the legitimate duties of a sight-seer. 

To assist me in my researches I had retained 
the services of an intelligent guide recommended 
by the landlord of the Vittoria. He called him¬ 
self Antonio, spoke English, French, and German 
fairly ; and as a cicerone was a decided acquisition. 
Since this journal was written my intelligent 
commissionaire may possibly have gone the way 
of all flesh ; but if he still survives and follows 
his vocation I can confidently recommend him 
for civility and usefulness. Antonio, in common 
with others of his class, had a history, according 
to which he had been ruined by the revolt of ’48, 
and forced to take to his present occupation for 
a livelihood. Be this as it may, his appearance 
and manners seemed to indicate that at some 
time or other he had occupied a better position 
than that of a mere valet de place. Antonio had 
visited England, and was immensely impressed 
with the grandeur and bustle of London. He 
frequently called my attention to the miserable 
crafts which now represent the trade and com¬ 
merce of Venice, and sadly contrasted her state 
of inactivity and stagnation with the well-filled 
docks of our own great seaport towns. He had a 





Chap. VI. 


DOGE'S PALACE. 


1 17 


wholesome dislike for two classes of Venetian so¬ 
ciety—priests and Austrians. Curiously enough, 
for he was a Roman Catholic, his antipathy to 
the former was more decided than his horror of 
the latter; and I noticed that while anathema¬ 
tizing the Austrians he was always particular to 
do so in a whisper, a very proper precaution in 
those days, when Venice was overrun with spies 
and informers. 

Murray or Ruskin must he referred to for a 
particular or architectural account of the Doge’s 
Palace; I can but attempt an imperfect descrip¬ 
tion of those portions of the building which have 
retained the most permanent hold on my memory. 
The great council chamber is a magnificent 
apartment, richly decorated with paintings by 
Tintoretto, Bassano, Palma, Paul Veronese, and 
other world-renowned masters. The cornice is 
adorned with portraits of the various doges; the 
place which had been destined for that of Marino 
Faliero being marked with an ominous square of 
black paint, or, as Murray more euphoniously 
terms it, veil. Near the ante-room of the apart¬ 
ment where the dreaded Council of Ten sat in 
mysterious session, is an opening in the wall, 
which was used by these awful judges as a letter¬ 
box. It was once covered with the effigy of a 



BRIDGE OF SIGHS. 


Chap. VI. 


ti8 


lion’s head, into whose brazen jaws were thrown 
the names of those who were denounced as ene¬ 
mies of the state. Lighting a lantern we descended 
into the lower storeys, and passed through a suc¬ 
cession of sombre winding passages into the dens 
once occupied by those whose names had found 
their way into the fatal letter-box. Near to these 
is a narrow stone gallery, now closed at one end 
by a dead wall. I looked through the gratings 
of this gallery at the Grand Canal and its con¬ 
necting channels, all-unconscious as I gazed that 
I stood on the far-famed Bridge of Sighs. It 
was the practice to bring the condemned over 
this bridge into the dreaded presence of the 
Council; and there sentence was pronounced, and 
they passed out only to die. 

I find it difficult to attempt a description of 
the Venetian churches without directly invading 
the province of the guide-books, and culling in¬ 
formation from their resources. I shall, there¬ 
fore, content myself with the rather general 
remark, that Venice abounds with grand and 
beautiful sanctuaries; all of them remarkable as 
the resting-places of those who have made its 
history famous or infamous, as the case may be. 
I was, however, particularly impressed with the 
richly carved and variegated marbles, and the 


Chap. VI. THE PIGEONS OF VENICE. 


119 


magnificent columns of verd-antique which 
adorned the Church of the Jesuits. Among 
other places of interest, I visited the Palazzo 
Giovannelli, remarkable for its elegant and beauti¬ 
ful marble staircase, and the richness of its de¬ 
corations and furniture. While going over one 
of these sumptuous palaces, my guide quaintly 
remarked, that the owner would gladly give half 
his wealth for a son and heir to his name and 
possessions. 

Landing at the steps in front of the lion and 
column of St. Mark, I walked to the Cafe Florian, 
where I indulged in iced coffee, and afterwards 
watched the pigeons fed in the Piazza san Marco. 
This is one of the sights of Venice. A few 
minutes before two o’clock the birds congregate 
from all quarters, and perch in the neighbour¬ 
hood ; and the moment the clock strikes, the air 
resounds with the flutter of innumerable wings, 
as they alight in the Piazza, where they are fed 
every day at the same hour. The birds are won¬ 
derfully tame; indeed, the Venetians regard their 
pigeons with an affection and reverence almost 

amounting to superstition. 

In the evening I went to the theatre, and found 
Madame Ristori performing “ Macbeth ” to an 
almost empty house. Soldiers with fixed bayo- 







I 20 


MADAME RISTORI 


Chap. VI. 


nets stood on each side of the pit, living com¬ 
mentaries on the policy pursued by Austria 
towards her late Venetian subjects. Times have 
changed since then ; the white coats have given 
place to the soldiers of Victor Emmanuel, who, it 
is presumed, do not watch over the popular 
amusements with such cautious and jealous soli¬ 
citude. The few people who patronized the 
performances seemed listless and indifferent. 
Whether it was that poverty had changed the 
lively character of the people, or that despotism 
had crushed all enthusiasm out of them, I know 
not; but the celebrated tragedienne altogether 
lacked the applause which she commanded in 
England. 

The theatre was execrably ventilated and un¬ 
pleasantly warm. The lights attracted the mos¬ 
quitoes, who, like the giant anthropophagi st, 
speedily scented the blood of an Englishman. 
The bite of these insects is exceedingly sharp, 
and, unfortunately, the irritation they cause does 
not quickly subside. Finding one on my hand, 

I involuntarily brought down the other with so 
sonorous a slap, that the sentries looked up sus¬ 
piciously from their station in the pit. Under 
such circumstances the drama was far from in¬ 
teresting, and I soon left the house, and thread- 



Chap. VI. 


A STREET EIGEfT. 


I 2 I 



ing the narrow city lanes, returned to the hotel. 
In one of these tortuous passages my progress 
was obstructed by a crowd, and pushing through 
them, I found myself the involuntary spectator of 
a Venetian quarrel. Two men, armed with 
km\ es, were cutting and slashing each other 


with horrible ferocity ; the crowd dispersed at 
the approach of the Austrian patrol, who im¬ 
mediately parted the combatants, but not until 
one of them had fainted from loss of blood. 
Some of the party carried him into a neighbour¬ 
ing druggist’s shop, whilst others took charge of 



























































122 


CHURCH OF ST. MARK. 


Chap. VI. 


his opponent. The wounded man was a piteous 
sight to see. He had been stabbed in the face, 
neck, and breast, and had lost three teeth; he 
died before I left Venice. 

The Church of St. Mark would commend itself 
to the favourable regard of a member of the 
ultra-English high-church party ; for a sombre 
religious light pervades its interior, which, how¬ 
ever, prevents the visitor from seeing its varied 
and beautiful adornments to advantage. It is 
paved with tesselated marbles, and possesses some 
beautiful columns of porphyry, verd-antique, and 
other valuable materials. Above the principal 
entrance are placed the famous bronze horses said 
to have been brought from Constantinople. The 
French had the impertinence to remove them to 
Paris, but were obliged to restore them, with other 
ill-gotten gains, when the Great Robber was con¬ 
signed to the rock of St. Helena. It would be 
difficult to assign these horses a much worse posi¬ 
tion than the one they now occupy : indeed, until 
you are on a level with them it is scarcely possible 
to see them. 

Immediately in front of St. Mark were three 
bronze pedestals (then) occupied by the standards 
of Austria. They were not originally intended 
for the reception of these foreign ensigns, but 


Chap. VI. 


THE FRARI CHURCH. 


123 


were ages ago occupied by the gonfalons of the 
great republic—Venice, Cyprus, and the Morea. 

Hard by the church, but separated from it 
after the Italian manner, rises the campanile, or 
tower, upwards of three hundred feet in height. 
It is considered “ the correct thing” to ascend 
this lor the sake ol the view ; but the weather 
was so oppressive that I could not bring myself to 
make the attempt. 

The Frari church is remarkable as the resting- 
place of Titian. It contained the two elegant 
monuments of Francesco Foscari and Canova, 
and a modern one of the great Venetian master. 
There is, however, a more worthy monument of 
Titian at the church of San Giovanni-e-Paolo, in 
his own wonderful picture of St. Peter’s Martyr¬ 
dom, which, among the paintings of the world , 
is said to hold the high rank of third. The roofs 
of many of these splendid sanctuaries were much 
damaged by the Austrian bombardment, and the 
little that was done to repair and amend them 
was done slowly and grudgingly. 

Whenever and wherever I landed I found 
myself surrounded by a number of half-naked 
famished urchins, eagerly soliciting charity. On 
one occasion I offered to throw some small coins 
into the canal, and my challenge was immediately 







124 


Chap. VI. 


DIVERS. 

a 

and gratefully accepted. Five or six little fellows 
threw off their scanty rags, and diving from the 
parapet of one of the neighbouring bridges, fished 
up the money with marvellous celerity. Pitying 
the hungry look of those who remained on the 
bank, I threw them also a handful; but such a 



scramble and fight ensued, that I immediately 
repented my ill-advised mode of almsgiving. 

In the Botanical Gardens I saw some remi¬ 
niscences of ’48, in the form of unexploded shells, 
which had fallen in this locality, and were desig¬ 
nated by Antonio “ Austrian compliments.” After 
leaving the gardens, it began to rain heavily, and 




































Chap. VI. 


THE GRANT CANAL . 


I2 5 


I sought shelter in the Academy of Fine Arts, 
which contained a noble collection of paintings 
by Tintoretto, Bonifacio, Titian, Giorgione, 
Gentile Bellini, Leonardo da Vinci, and other 
eminent masters. I also went over one of the 
glass-works for which Venice has been so long 
celebrated, and witnessed the process of manu¬ 
facturing the glass beads and artificial pearls so 
well known in England. 

The panorama of decayed beauty which 
borders the Grand Canal is familiar, by picture or 
otherwise, to those even who have never seen 
Venice. I will not therefore attempt any de¬ 
tailed description, but simply content myself by 
naming the objects which especially attracted my 
attention. Among these I particularly noted the 
church of Santa Maria della Salute; the palaces 
Rezzonico, Giustiniani, Foscari, and Balbi; the 
Doge’s Palace, with the far-famed lion and column 
of St. Mark; the Bridge of Sighs hard by; and 
last, though by no means least, the celebrated 
Rialto. 

To-day’s table d'hote was graced by the pre¬ 
sence of numerous Britons. Among them were 
several canny Scots, and their broad uncouth 
lingo sounded, to my ear at least, singularly at 
variance with all the traditions and associations 





126 


MILAN AGAIN 


Chap. VI. 


of Venice. It was dismally grotesque, if I may 
use the expression, to hear one traveller asking 
another, “ Have ye seen the Riolto, mon ?” and to 
mark the reply of the interrogated Scotchman. 
One of these north countrymen seemed to con¬ 
sider it the acme of enjoyment to wear out soid 
and body in the shortest possible space of time; 
for he told me with much glee that he should be 
in Paris within the space of two days. 

The tourist will spend a delightful week in 
Venice if he will choose the early part of the 
summer for his visit: but I would recommend 
him to avoid it in September. The canals then 
emitted a decidedly unpleasant odour, the mos¬ 
quitoes were savagely vigorous, and the heat was 
perfectly blistering. 

I left Venice next day; but before being- 
allowed to take my seat in the train, my luggage 
was subjected to the ordeal by search. The 
Austrian officials were so suspicious and exacting, 
that I found it difficult to prevent their investi¬ 
gating the contents of the bag I carried over my 
shoulder, and which, probably for the sake of 
carrying something, contained only hotel and 
other bills. 

I returned to Milan late in the evening, and, 
immediately after breakfast, wended my way next 




Chap. VI. 


MILAN CATHEDRAL. 


I 2 


morning to the cathedral. In the strong brilliant 
sunlight the marble of which it is built gives it a 
perfectly dazzling appearance. I was more struck 
with the exterior of the building than its interior, 
which is, on the whole, 
slightly disappointing. 

In spite of the burning 
heat I ascended to the 
roof, and from the gal¬ 
lery of one of the tur¬ 
rets beheld one of the 
most superb panoramic 
views I have ever wit¬ 
nessed. The capital of 
the former kingdom of 
Italy lay mapped out 
beneath me ; the plains 
of Lombardy and the 
Montesana opened out 
beyond; in the far dis¬ 
tance the sun illumi¬ 
nated the glistening 
peaks of the Simplon, 

Monte Rosa, Monte Cems, and the Apennines; 
and not a scintilla of mist or cloud intervened to 
mar the enjoyment of the truly wondrous and 
beautiful landscape. 












































128 


MILAN CATHEDRAL. 


Chap. VI. 


I think the mind more distinctly retains im¬ 
pressions of the grotesque or horrible than tho^e 
of either beauty or pleasure. It is for this reason, 
that of all the statues and monuments which 
adorn the interior of Milan Cathedral I can at 
this distance of time remember but one. It was 
not a pleasant subject, as it represented St. 
Bartholomew completely flayed from head to 
heel. The sang-froid of the martyr is more than 
remarkable; for he carries his skin thrown over 
his shoulder like an empty sack, to which, by the 
way, it bears a close resemblance. Notwith¬ 
standing the possible value of the statue as a work 
of art, the veins and arteries denuded of all cover¬ 
ing rendered it a painful—nay, a positively dis¬ 
gusting object. 

In the subterranean church beneath repose 
the bones of San Carlo Borromeo. The ghastlv 
remains of the holy man, who appears to have 
been a saint high in favour with the people of 
Lombardy, were enveloped in gorgeous robes and 
ornaments, studded with precious stones. As a fit¬ 
ting motto for all this expensive frippery, the sarco¬ 
phagus of rock-crystal in which he lies is labelled 
with the legend “ humilitasC I learn from a de¬ 
scription of the cathedral, published by Luigi Di 
Giacomo Pirola of Milan, that the sarcophagus 




Chap. VI. 


THE BEERA. 


129 


was presented by the pious Philip IV. of Spain; 
and that the aggregate value of “ this chapel”— 
meaning thereby, I presume, the ornaments and 
contents of the subterranean church—is estimated 
to be 4,000,000 francs. 

The treasures of the cathedral were shown to 
me, consisting of silver statues and busts of San 
Carlo Borromeo and St. Ambrose, solid gold and 
silver relic shrines and chalices, and altar-cloths 
elaborately embroidered with gold and silver. 
The sacristan was a man of refined taste, for he 
reserved to the last a small picture by Titian, and 
said as he brought it forward, “This we value 
more than anything I have yet shown you.” 

From the cathedral I went to the Brera, an 
extensive collection of ancient and modern paint¬ 
ings. The latter were the works of living Italian 
masters, and some of them were meritorious, 
though alas! altogether incomparable with those 
of their predecessors. After leaving the Brera I 
hired a conveyance, and drove about Milan and 
its environs. The most impressive object was 
the Arco della Pace. This was originally de¬ 
signed to commemorate Napoleon’s victories, and 
notably that of Jena; but when the kingdom of 
Italy went down, and the Austrians entered its 
capital, they soon altered the programme of the 

K 






T 3 ° 


THE SC A LA THEATRE. 


Chap. VI. 


basso-relievos. Its name was changed from that 
of the Arch of the Simplon to its present one, 
while the statue of Peace was substituted for that 
of Victory. Her effigy drawn by six horses 
crowns the arch, the corners being occupied by 
four figures, said collectively to represent Fame. 
Among the emblematic figures the rivers Po and 
Ticino are symbolized by colossal statues. Murray 
states that the arch with its lodges cost the 
amazing sum of ^142,839—^40,000 being re¬ 
presented by the car and figures on the top. He 
does not condescend to inform us where the 
money came from; the 200,000 francs “assigned 
by Napoleon for adorning the city” can have 
formed a mere drop in the bucket. 

The Scala Theatre somewhat reminded me of 
Covent Garden. The entertainment, which was 
excellent, was but thinly attended, except by the 
Austrian officers, who mustered in imposing 
numbers. The performances consisted of an 
opera (“11 Trovatore”) and a very pleasing ballet 
—the scenery, too, was very good. The Count was 
represented by Signor Giovanni Corsi; Leonora, 
by Signora Lafon Maria; Azucena, by Signora 
Corvetti Placida; and Manrico, by Signor Sarti 
Vincenzo. The ballet (a very long one) was 
brought on between the second and third acts of 







Chap. VI. 


PLAGUE OF FLIES. 


I 3 I 

the opera, the premiere danseuse being Catterina 
Baretta. 

I returned next day to Como, and drove 
thence to Capolago, a distance of some eleven 
miles. While waiting here two hours for the 
Lugano steamer, I en¬ 
deavoured to obtain 
some refreshment; but 
the little inn could 
only supply me with 
some bread and cheese, 
and a bottle of some 
detestable compound 
which locally passed 
for wine. The bread 
and cheese were suffi¬ 
ciently intolerable, but 
the liquid was worse 
than horrible. To add 
to my enjoyment, the 
flies settled in such 
swarms upon myself and my fare, that they 
speedily upset what little appetite the ^<6 hi o 
food had left me. I paid for their refreshment, 
and left them in undisturbed possession. 

The delightful sail up the lake amply com¬ 
pensated for my detention at Capolago. I he 

k 2 



1 1 























1 3 2 


PASSPORT DEMANDED. Chap. VI. 


Hotel dn Parc at Lugano is charmingly situate, 
and was unquestionably the best I had met with 
in Northern Italy or Italian Switzerland. Lugano 
was sufficiently pretentious to possess a theatre; 
but, considering the fact that the town has but 
4000 inhabitants, this can scarcely be expected 
to prove a paying speculation. Taking into 
account the beauty of its situation, apart from 
any other consideration, Lugano might well 
afford to be cleaner. The local feat is the ascent 
of Monte Salvadore, which I did not do, for I had 
not received any letters for many weeks past, and 
was anxious to get on to Lucerne, where I had 
directed all correspondents to address me. 

Early next morning, ere the sun had acquired 
sufficient power to scorch me, I left Lugano for 
the Lago Maggiore. Passing the windows of the 
hotel, some ladies waved their hands to me, in 
whom I recognized my former travelling com¬ 
panions. 

For a long time past my passport had been so 
seldom needed, that I carried it more from habit 
than from any recollection of its dire necessity. 
Between Como and Luino, however, I had to 
produce it on four different occasions. By the 
time I arrived at Luino the sun had made me so 
drowsy, that I requested and obtained permission 




Chap. VI. 


MAGADINO. 


i 33 


of the landlady of the little inn there to take a 
siesta pending the arrival of the steamer. I was 
delightfully reposing, when my slumbers were in¬ 
terrupted by a knock at the door, and in walked 
an Austrian soldier, who saluted, and demanded 
my passport, which, after some little delay, he 
brought back to me duly visS. 

On my arrival at Magadino, I found that the 
only bedroom of the inn which commanded a 
good view of the lake was engaged. As I saw no 
other travellers about, I suspected that the hostess 
was reserving the room for the use of some pro¬ 
spective higher bidder, and determined to have it 
or none at all. I therefore at once struck, and 
threatened to leave unless it was given up to me. 
The result of this demonstration was satisfactory, 
for, after a show of resistance, the landlady gave 
way; and I afterwards found that my suspicions 
were justified by facts, as the room had not been 
retained by anyone. The view which it com¬ 
manded amply repaid me for my trouble in ob¬ 
taining it. Before me lay the splendid Maggiore 
lake, the town of Locarno being located on its 
opposite shore. In front of the inn the lazy natives 
lay basking in the sun, perfectly luxuriating in 
dirt and idleness. The most industrious members 
of the community seemed to be of the feminine 



i34 A ME PHIS T OPHELIAN WAITER. Ch. VI. 


gender. From time to time picturesque groups 
of women put off in their heavy market-boats, 
which they skilfully rowed to the opposite shore 
of the lake. 

I had chosen Magadino as a halting-place, as 
the station nearest to the St. Gothard. It was my 
original intention to have taken the diligence to 
Fluellen, and my annoyance may therefore be 
imagined when I found that this provokingly in¬ 
convenient conveyance left in the afternoon, so 
that if I availed myself of its services, I should 
pass the most attractive portions of the journey at 
midnight. This of course could not be thought 
of; and resolving to be independent of the ec¬ 
centric vehicle, I engaged a carriage and horses 
to take me to my destination, at what I considered 
a very fair and reasonable charge. 

If there ev r er was on this earth a living incar¬ 
nation of Mephistopheles, the waiter at the inn 
at Magadino was unquestionably the man. I 
think he was without exception the most unfor¬ 
tunate-looking fellow it has ever been my fate to 
encounter. His repulsive appearance had in¬ 
stinctively put me on my guard ; but having no 
companion of any kind at Magadino, I had found 
it necessary to confer with him on the subject of 
my intended journey to Fluellen. Mephistopheles 







Chap. VI. A “SCENE” AT THE INN 


1 3 5 


had, at my request, undertaken to get me a written 
statement of the terms of my arrangement with 
the landlady ; accordingly this morning he put 
into my hand a dirty scrap of paper, some three 
inches square, which he told me contained every¬ 
thing I required. The scrawl, however, was so 
wholly unintelligible, and the paper so dirty and 
suspicious-looking, that I immediately sought an 
interview with the hostess herself, who told me, 
with much apparent frankness, that it was no 
agreement at all; a form of which she produced 
and filled up. This was at least an intelligible 
document, expressed in good French ; and speci¬ 
fied the places I desired to remain for the night, 
exempted me from bridge and other tolls, and 
named Fluellen as the place where the fare was 
to be paid, and the contract considered at an end. 
If I remember rightly, I added a clause, specify¬ 
ing that no one should be taken up on the road 
without my own free will; a very necessary pro¬ 
viso in all agreements having for their subject- 
matter the hire and retainer of conveyances in 
Switzerland. 

A most extraordinary scene now ensued, in 
which the landlady and her waiter were chief 
actors. Mephistopheles was perfectly rampant; 
he raved about his wounded honour in mingled 





136 


A “SCENE” AT THE INN Chap. VI 


French and Italian, and made such an utter fool 
of himself, that I was exceedingly entertained at 
the absurdity of the whole performance. The 
farce, however, was quickly played out, for the 
landlady put an end to it by discharging Mephis- 
topheles on the spot, who forthwith packed up 
his goods and chattels, and, indignant at the 
affront which his pride had suffered, left the inn 
swelling like a turkey-cock with offended dignity. 
I must add that none of his observations were 
addressed either to or at me, the vials of his wrath 
being emptied exclusively on the head of the 
landladv, which led me to entertain some doubts 
whether she was altogether as innocent as she 
professed to be. Be that as it might, Mephis- 
topheles was discharged, and the chambermaid, 
a pretty Frenchwoman, promoted to the vacant 
post. 







( *37 ) 


CHAPTER VII. 



TTEMPT to infringe the 
Agreement — Reappear¬ 
ance of Mephistopheles — 
Faido—Fall of the Piu- 
megna—Airolo—The Val 
Tremola—“ Suwarrow Vic¬ 
tor”—Change in the Tem¬ 
perature—Arrival at Hos- 
penthal — Exasperating 
German—Cataract of the 
Reuss — Devil’s Bridge— 
Defile of Schellinen—Alt- 
dorf—Fluellen—Arrival at 
Lucerne — The Righi — 
Thorwaldsen’s Lion. 

After paying a most 
exorbitant bill, for 
which, by the way, I 
had received no value, 
if I except an unlimited 
supply of garlic and a 
pleasantly situated bed¬ 


room, 1 left Magadino en route for Lucerne. 
Before starting, the landlady attempted to in- 


4k 



138 REAPPEARANCE OFMEPHISTOPHELES. 


fringe the agreement, and coolly requested me 
to take a party on to Bellinzona. Finding that 
they were friends of hers, and well able to pay 
their own travelling expenses, I indignantly re¬ 
fused, and drew from her a perfect shower of 
apologies. 

Once fairly started, I resigned myself to the 
pleasurable anticipations of a delightful day’s 
journey, without further interruption or hin¬ 
drance ; but had scarcely quitted Magadino ere 
I heard a distant hail, and beheld some one run¬ 
ning after us at full speed. As the figure ap¬ 
proached, it proved to be a man with a bundle, 
and fearing I had left something behind me, I made 
the driver pause to allow the messenger to over¬ 
take us. As he approached, I recognized the 
features of my friend the waiter, who, flushed and 
excited with running, looked, if possible, a trifle 
more villanous than ever. He greeted me with 
a satanic grin, remarking that he had been ex¬ 
pecting me for some time, which made me in¬ 
voluntarily suspect that he meditated mischief. 
With the most perfect sang-froid , Mephistopheles 
now took his seat by the driver’s side, coolly in¬ 
forming me that it was his gracious intention to 
accompany me to Bellinzona. The tone he 
adopted would have led anyone to imagine that 




Ch. VII. DESIGN OF ME PHIS TOPHELES. 


T 39 


the fellow really believed he was conferring a 
favour when he made this unexpected announce¬ 
ment ; and a mingled expression of astonishment 
and offended dignity pervaded his countenance 
when I begged him to remember that the con¬ 
veyance was not a public one, and that my object 
in hiring it was to enable me to travel in comfort 
and undisturbed. My friend now changed his 
cue, and, with an appealing shrug, drew my at¬ 
tention to the heat of the weather, and his own 
forlorn and destitute condition ; and, to relieve 
his whining importunities, I at length reluctantly 
consented to bring him to the place he named. 
The lift to Bellinzona formed, however, as I 

suspected, but a portion of my friend’s plan; for 
% 

as soon as he found himself in comfortable pos¬ 
session, he handed me a manuscript volume con¬ 
taining a fabulous number of testimonials, pur¬ 
porting to have been written in his favour by 
various French, German, Russian, and Italian 
masters, whom he had served at divers periods of 
his distinguished life in the capacity of valet. He 
told me, as he drew my attention to these, that he 
was now about to seek his fortune, and had gra¬ 
ciously conceived that I was just the person to 
help him to that laudable attainment. My re¬ 
fusal to entertain his proposal considerably dis- 




140 


FALL OF THE PLUMEGNA. Chap. VII. 


concerted him; but he returned to the charge 
with redoubled vigour, offering to serve me in 
any capacity and without remuneration, if I would 
but consent to take him on to Lucerne. I thought 
of Courvoisier, and sternly refused. He continued 
his ceaseless importunity all the way to Bellinzona ; 
but as soon as we arrived there I ordered him 
away. Finding that his entreaties were fruitless, 
Mephistopheles departed, as he had made his ap¬ 
pearance, with a low bow and a perfectly satanic 
grin. I am happy to add that I never saw him 
again. 

About four o’clock in the afternoon we halted 
at the Angelo at Faido. Here they gave me for 
dinner some fine trout just taken from the Ticino, 
a most enjoyable repast after my meals at Maga- 
dino, which were so highly seasoned with garlic 
as to be scarcely eatable. In the cool of the 
evening I crossed the road, and visited the pictu¬ 
resque and pretty fall of the Piumegna, which 
was visible from my bedroom window. Crossing 
the Ticino by a bridge of roughly-hewn planks, 
which tilted up with my weight as I passed over, 
I ascended the dry bed of a winter torrent to the 
little stone bridge which spanned the lower fall; 
and from thence obtained an excellent view of 
the graceful cascade. It was nearly dusk, and 



Chap. VII. 


THE VAL TEE MOL A. 


141 


the splashing, tumbling water was the only sound 
which broke the otherwise profound stillness. The 
lovely scene was rendered more striking by the 
deepening twilight, and the utter loneliness and 
solitude of the spot in which I stood alone. 

I passed a very uncomfortable night, my 
slumbers being disturbed by an active flea, whose 
voracity at length aroused my indignation, and, 
after incredible exertion, I succeeded in capturing 
my tormentor. My bedroom was situated imme¬ 
diately over the stables, as my nose shortly in¬ 
formed me. Now and again I was awoke by the 
squealing of a restless horse, which sounded almost 
unearthly in the dead of night. Notwith¬ 
standing these inconveniences, I am inclined to 
speak in favourable terms of the Angelo; and 
when, according to custom, the visitors’ book was 
next morning brought to me when on the point 
of starting, I not unwillingly registered therein 
my own weighty testimony in its favour. 

Shortly after 8 a.m. I left Faido, and halted 
for refreshment at Airolo. Here I remained some 
time, and paid an exorbitant price for a wretched 
dinner at the indifferent little inn there. Quitting 
Airolo, I traversed that most desolate portion of 
the pass called the Val Tremola, said by Murray 
to be dangerous in spring-time, by reason of the 




142 


ARRIVAL AT HOSPENTHAL. Chap. VII. 


falling avalanches. It is, indeed, a forlorn-looking 
locality, owing probably to the agency of these 
same avalanches, traces of which are everywhere 
visible. Further on I passed the scene of the ob¬ 
stinate fight between Suvarrof and the French, 
wherein the latter were defeated. Whether my eye¬ 
sight was at fault or not, I cannot tell; but I failed 
to discover the well-known inscription “ Suwarrow 
Victor,” said to be graven in the rock hard by. 

As I advanced the sudden change in the 
temperature was remarkable. In the short space 
of two hours the burning heat of summer gave 
place to the intensest cold of winter; an icy wind 
swept through the pass, rendering my plaid and 
slight overcoat a very insufficient protection 
against the piercing blast. I arrived at Hospen- 
thal in a shivering condition, and found at the 
Lion d' Or a blazing fire and a cup of warm 
refreshing coffee. There were many English 
people here, who, according to custom, were 
“ doing ” the pass from Lucerne. Some phleg¬ 
matic Germans were also present, and seemed 
scared at the exuberant spirits and laughing faces 
of the English girls. 

The cold had made me sleepy, and I retired 
to rest early; but had hardly composed myself 
for sound unbroken slumber, ere my arrange- 







Chap. VII. AN EXASPERATING GERMAN 


r 43 


ments were defeated by an exasperating German. 
This Allemanic nuisance was quartered in the 
adjoining apartment, which he began to traverse 
like a sentry the moment he set foot in it. I 
remained quiescent for some time, hoping against 
hope that this descendant of the Goths would 
eventually grow weary of his monotonous occu¬ 



pation. I was however mistaken, tor my tire¬ 
some neighbour, not content with his exasperat¬ 
ing promenade, proceeded to accompany it with 
one of the most doleful and guttural ditties of 
Fatherland. It occurred to me that all that was 
wanting was a drum accompaniment, which I 
immediately supplied in the shape of a pair of 
heavy boots, each of which I launched with all 





































































144 


CATARACT OF THE REUSS. Chap. VII. 


my force at the thin partition which separated 
us. I must have daunted the German ; for both 
march and music simultaneously ceased, and 
shortly afterwards the creaking of his bedstead 
announced to me that he had betaken himself to 
repose. 

In the morning my coachman presented him¬ 
self, and announced, with a doleful face, that one 
of his horses had fallen lame. My agreement 
provided for emergencies of this kind; and all 
that was required to be done was to find a suc¬ 
cessor for the incapacitated animal, which was 
effected without much difficulty. I left cold 
and comfortless Hospenthal at 8 a.m., and soon 
reached the most stupendous and savage scenery 
of the pass. I crossed the thundering roaring- 
cataract of the Reuss by the modern bridge, from 
the parapet of which I beheld its ruined but 
interesting neighbour and namesake. This con¬ 
sists of a single arch “ thrown across the gorge, 
just broad enough to admit of two persons passing 
each other in safety, with scarcely any protection 
at the sides, and at a height of about a hundred feet 
above the torrent. It was a dizzy thing to pass 
it, and for persons of weak nerves dangerous, and 
to get upon it you coasted the gulf of zigzag 
terraces. Till the first bridge was made there 




Chap. VII. ARRIVAL AT LUCERNE. 


i 45 


was no passing this terrific chasm, no communi¬ 
cation possible from one side to the other.” 

I now passed through the desolate and sombre 
defile of Schellinen, left Wasen and Amsteg 
behind me, and halted for a brief space at Altdorf. 
Here I noticed two fountains—one marking the 
traditionary scene of William Tell’s successful 
archery feat, the other standing upon the spot 
once occupied by the tree to which his apocry¬ 
phal child was bound. The first is adorned with 
statues, popularly believed to be likenesses of the 
Swiss liberator and his son; the other bears the 
effigy of some other distinguished person, perhaps 
some local magnate, possibly Gessler himself. 

The Lake of Lucerne appeared in sight soon 
after we left Altdorf. Notwithstanding its beauty, 
I hailed it with a feeling of some regret, as it told 
me that my pleasant three days’ journey was 
drawing to a close. At Fluellen I dismissed my 
civil driver; and the lake steamer conveyed me 
to the celebrated Schweizer Hof at Lucerne, where 
I again met with the party I had parted with at 
Freiburg. They had been here ever since I left 
them, and seemed somewhat scared when I told 
them where I had been and what I had seen. I 
believe I was unwittingly the cause of breaking 
up a pleasant party; for while some of the number 


L 







146 


THE RIGHT. 


Chap. VII 


were so pleased with Lucerne that they declined 
to leave it, the others, fired with my recital, 
“ seceded” from their company, and the next day 
departed for a tour on their own account. 

The following day I went by steamer to 



Weggis, whence I commenced the ascent of the 
Righi. 1 had at first intended to walk to the 
summit, but the heat of the sun proved so intoler¬ 
able that I showed symptoms of distress before I 
had accomplished a fourth of the ascent. It was, 
therefore, much to my satisfaction that I met a man 



Chap. VII. 


AN ALPINE SUNSET. 


r 47 


and horse on their return downwards, and there¬ 
after, at the expense of the patient and long-suffer¬ 
ing animal, I thoroughly appreciated the magnifi¬ 
cent views which opened out on either side as we 
mounted. I felt slightly abashed as I passed 
numerous tourists toiling painfully upwards, but 
marked the tired and jaded appearance of these ex¬ 
celsior pedestrians, and felt that I had done wisely. 

The easy bridle-path, winding upwards to the 
Kulm, commands magnificent views of the lake. 
The scenery is grand and rugged, but eminently 
Swiss in character. No Italian-looking villas dot 
the banks ; the town which lies below has none of 
those lofty, elegant campaniles which confer so 
peculiar and picturesque an appearance upon the 
hamlets and villages which border the Italian 
lakes. The number of tourists trooping upwards, 
on foot and horseback, warned me not to delay, 
lest I should lose my chance of securing a bed at 
the hotel; as it was, I was only just in time, and 
half an hour later should have failed to obtain 
accommodation. 

The sunset was, perhaps, the most magnificent 
sight I have ever witnessed, and altogether baffles 
my powers of description. I gazed with astonish¬ 
ment and delight at the immense range of “ ser¬ 
ried Alpine peaks” as their eternal snows and 


L 2 




148 


THE OB ERL AND. 


Chap. VII. 


glaciers became severally illuminated by the rays 
of the descending luminary. When the delicate 
roseate tints had completely faded and died away, 
I turned to the boundless panorama which lay 
around me, comprising the vast mountains of the 
Oberland, forests, villages, hills, and rivers, with 
upwards of sixteen different lakes, among them 
being those of Hallwyg, Zug, and Lucerne. 
How can I attempt to convey any adequate idea 
of a landscape so gigantic that it is said to embrace 
a circumference of upwards of three hundred miles! 
No pen, indeed, is equal to the task : it is—as 
Florence Marryat says of another place, “ a scene 
that at first sight almost takes your breath away; 
that causes thoughts of all whom you love at 
home to flash through your mind with an earnest 
wish that they could only see it—that they could 
only participate in your pleasure and surprise at a 
sight of which you feel you will never be compe¬ 
tent to give them even an idea.” 

The sun wrought a miracle ere he sank to his 
rest, for he melted the habitual reserve of my 
fellow-countrymen and women at the table d'hote , 
who were exceptionally loud and enthusiastic in 
celebrating his praises. The only discontented 
person appeared to be an American neighbour, 
the owner of a wonderfully keen and vigorous 








Ch. VII. THE VIEW FROM THE RIGHT. 


149 


appetite. This gentleman from time to time 
favoured me with his observations on Europe in 
general, and Switzerland in particular. In a 
highly nasal tone of voice he compared her in¬ 
stitutions and scenery with those of his own land, 
to the disparagement, of course, of the former. 
The sunset, indeed, requires no panegyric, and 
with the testimony of a really distinguished 
American in its favour it would be the merest 
folly to notice the criticism of a nameless 
Yankee. Writing of the view from the Righi, 
Dr. Cheever says, it is “ of a glory and beauty 
indescribable, and nowhere else in the world to be 
enjoyed, and here only in perfect weather.” As 
for American institutions—after the exhibition 
which the enlightened republic has been affording 
the world, socially and politically, for some time 
past—the less we say about such institutions, 
perhaps, the better. 

A splendid moon succeeded the sunset. Before 
retiring to rest I strolled into the air in the hope 
of obtaining another view of the surrounding 
panorama, but found everything veiled from sight 
by an immense mass of clouds which lay piled in 
heavy folds around the shoulders ol the mountain. 
No sooner had I crept into bed than I found my 
thoughts transported from the locality of the 





THE MORNING REVEILLE. Ch. VII. 


* 5 ° 


Righi to that of Malvern. My sheets were not 
damp : they were wringing wet, a state of things 
attributable to the ordinarily moist state of the 
atmosphere, but scarcely satisfactory so far as 
comfort was concerned. By-and-by the damp 
linen became warm, and after a time so oppressive 
that the bed changed its character altogether, and 
became converted into a perfect vapour-bath. 



The discordant braying of an Alpine horn 
(the usual morning riveille) awoke me early, and 
hastily throwing on my garments, and wrapping 
myself in a plaid, I rushed forth into the chilly 
atmosphere, overtaking in my headlong progress 
male and female tourists in every conceivable 
variety of deshabille, stumbling over everything 






Chap. VII. SUNRISE ON THE RIGHI. 


151 

and each other in their anxiety to arrive first at 
the summit. The morning was unusually clear, 
but bitterly raw and cold, and my patience was 
exhausted by the tardiness of the expected sun, 
who seemed by no means disposed to hasten his 
rising. Perseverance (I cannot, in my own case, 
say patience) was at length rewarded. Slowly the 
sun appeared, gradually throwing, in his upward 
progress, the snow-clad peaks into roseate relief, 
and at last bathing the whole of the glorious 
scene in a flood of golden light. I am not, how¬ 
ever, so enthusiastic in reference to the sunrise on 
the Righi as it is the fashion with most persons 
to be. After the long and anxiously looked-for 
sight was over, and the luminary had fairly de¬ 
parted on his daily journey, I came to the con¬ 
clusion that of the two the sunset is by far the 
most glorious and beautiful. I have no desire to 
injure the prospects of the enterprising landlord 
who has established himself on the summit, but 
would, nevertheless, recommend those who have 
been fortunate enough to see the sun set not to 
stay for his rising. 

The appearance of my fellow-guests was so 
immensely improved when they made their ap¬ 
pearance in the salle-a-manger that I failed to 
recognise the individuals who had assisted at the 





1 S 2 


DESCENT FROM THE RIGHT. Ch. VII. 



echoes ring again with songs and merry laughter. 
My descent was inconveniently rapid, for once set 
going I found it impossible to stop. Midway, 
however, I managed to put on the breaks, and 
halted at a little hut, where they gave me a re¬ 


sunrise in such eccentric dSshabillL Breakfast 
over, I left the hotel, and descended the mountain 
via Kussnacht. In my downward progress I 
encountered only a couple of lively Germans, 
apparently of the student class, who made the 










Chap. VII. THOR WALJDSENS LION. 


T 53 


freshing draught of milk. I reached Kussnacht, 
after a delightful walk, in time for the 10.30 
steamer, which brought me back to Lucerne. 

The capital of the canton Lucerne is seen to 
greater advantage from the deck of the lake 
steamer than when traversing its cramped badly- 
paved streets: its delightful situation, however, 
atones for any architectural or other shortcomings. 
One of its chief attractions is Thorwaldsen’s Lion. 
The conception is grand, and the monument is 
carved out of a rock; but at its foot lay a stag¬ 
nant pool, which thoroughly neutralized the effect 
of the really grand work. Lucerne abounded 
with excellent shops, in some of which might be 
obtained good photographs of the lake and its 
surroundings, and whole cartloads of the cheap 
and handy Tauchnitz series of British authors. 
The print and paper of these editions are simply 
unimpeachable, and they surpass in every respect 
those nasty yellow picture-backed books with 
which cheap publishers have deluged us at home. 

A fair band performed during the progress of 
the table d'hote , and certainly helped to enliven 
the proceedings. Dinner over, the guests all 
started forth to enjoy the cool evening air. I 
leant against the parapet-wall of the lake, and 
amused myself by watching the groups of tourists 




*54 


ENGLISH ECCENTRICITY. Chap. VII. 


on the esplanade in front of the Schweizer Hof. 
France, Germany, and England were efficiently 
represented; but the English element predomi¬ 
nated, and distinguished itself by the eccentricity 
of its costume. One enterprising individual, re¬ 
gardless of expense, sported a Tyrolese hat and 
feather, in which he strutted up and down, to his 
own great satisfaction and the delight and amuse¬ 
ment of less pretentious compatriots. It was a 
pleasant change to turn from these animated 
groups and view the lovely lake, its “ crystal 
depths” walled in by towering mountain borders. 
Numerous lateen-sailed boats flitted to and fro 
across the placid waters, the more distant of these 
picturesque craft, in their rapid course, appearing 
like sea-gulls skimming the surface of the lake. 



( I 55 ) 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Lucerne to Berne—Importance of Early Attendance at Con¬ 
tinental Railway Stations—Museum at Berne — The Clock 
Tower The Bears—Cathedral and Statue of Erlach—Foun¬ 
tain—English Church Service—Women of Berne—View from 
the “Platform”—Freyburg — Vevay — Castle of Chillon — 
Villeneuve—Bex—Fall of the Sallenche—Arrival at Martigny 
—Pass of the Tete Noir—Thamouni. 

LEFT Lucerne the next 
day for Berne. Punctu¬ 
ality at continental rail¬ 
way stations is of the 
most vital importance, 
for in addition to his own 
ticket the traveller has to 
secure one for his lug¬ 
gage, and pay for its 
transit; and as the rates 
are regulated by the 
weight of the articles charged for, and foreign 
railway officials are utterly innocent of haste, a 
considerable margin of time is required to ner- 













*56 


RAIL WA Y STA TLONS. Chap. VIII. 


feet all the arrangements. To do everything 
comfortably the tourist should be at the station 
at least twenty-five minutes before the starting 
of the train. In booking luggage the railway 
authorities regard early attendance as the very 
soul of business; and it is amusing and in¬ 
structive withal to watch the bewildered looks of 
a procrastinating Englishman, who brings his 
British railway conventionalism (so to speak) 
abroad with him, and arrives five minutes before 
the hour of departure. Whilst other travellers, 
booked and paid for, are comfortably seated in the 
waiting-room, he rushes about from post to pillar, 
in the vain hope of inducing the phlegmatic 
porters to take notice of his neglected luggage. 
Disgusted at the heartless indifference of every¬ 
body he retires at last in dudgeon, or, if he 
happily succeeds in catching the train, limps his 
way to the platform, effervescing with wrath and 
pain, induced by the deposit of a trunk of more 
than average weight upon a peculiarly sensitive 
corn. There is none of the unseemly rush and 
scramble so frequently to be seen at English rail¬ 
way stations; the guard does not, as at home, 
imploringly ask whether “ any more are going on.” 
As soon as the train is ready for the travellers, the 
waiting-room doors are opened, and they—that is 





Chap. VIII. ARRIVAL AT BERNE. 


i57 


to say the travellers, and not the doors—take 
their seats orderly and quietly in their respective 
carriages. If anyone is then seen madly rushing 
up and down the platform you may be certain 
that it is no other than the procrastinating Eng¬ 
lishman. 

In the waiting-room of a continental railway 
station there are many elements of interest and 
amusement. Paterfamilias and family, stiff as 
sergeant-majors at home, here relax their rigidity, 
and smilingly condescend to compare notes with 
stranger tourists, who in England would be con¬ 
sidered capable of every enormity, varying from 
burglary to incendiarism, were they presumptuous 
enough to address them. The young Anglian, 
who at home clothes himself in severely fashionable 
garments, here adopts a negligSe style of dress, 
crowns his head with a wideawake, and, having 
no fear of bye-laws before his eyes, smokes the 
vilest of cigars, to his own content, and the disgust 
and horror of his fellow-countrymen. The natives 
meanwhile gaze distractedly at their foreign visitors, 
and evidently regard John Bull in the light of the 
strangest and most inexplicable of beings. 

Arrived at Berne I deposited my belongings 
at the Couronne; and employed the time allowed 
me before dinner in inspecting the local lions, or, 




THE CLOCK TOWER. Chap. VIII. 


153 

perhaps—as they ought to be named in special 
reference to the place—bears. At the museum I 
saw numbers of these animals, and also the cele¬ 
brated St. Bernard dog, Barry , who had at least 
done his duty in his day and generation, and 
done it right nobly too, for he is reported to have 
saved the lives of no less than fifteen persons. 
Both bears and dogs were, of course, stuffed. I 
stopped to gaze at the town clock, the most 
amusing and comical piece of mediaeval mechanism 
I ever beheld. Five minutes before the hour a 
cock flaps his wings, and gives utterance to an 
asthmatic howl, which is locally understood to 
represent a crow; a procession of bears of all 
sizes, varying from the great big bear to the 
tiniest and smallest of animals, next appears, and 
promenades round the clock-face; a man-at-arms 
then strikes the hour with his mace, whilst a king- 
checks off each stroke with his sceptre, and opens 
and shuts his mouth as if counting the time. 

The good town would appear to be really 
monomaniac on the subject of bears. A bear 
flourishes in the city arms, bears in every con¬ 
ceivable and inconceivable position start up at 
every corner, and real live bears are kept at the 
public cost, and inhabit a bear-pit in the middle 
of the town. That they are well looked after and 





Chap. VIII. 


BERNE BEARS. 


!59 


generally appreciated, their glossy black coats and 
contented appearance sufficiently attested. They 
elevated their noses and sniffed the air as I drew 
near, and their expression—if, indeed, bears may be 
permitted to have any expression at all—said as 



plainly as it could be said : “ Fa, fe, fo, fum, I 
smell the blood of an Englishman.” 

Over the principal entrance of the cathedral 
I noted a curious piece of sculpture, having for 
its subject the Last Judgment. In front stands a 
fine equestrian statue of Erlach, the hero of 
Laufen. It is of course unnecessary to add that, 








160 STATUE OF AN OGRE. Chap. VIII. 

as a citizen of Berne, he could not dispense with 
his bears. One of these animals stands at each 
corner of the pedestal. 

Berne is a quaint and curious old town. The 
houses in some of the principal streets rest upon 
clumsy arcades or colonnades, affording a dry 
promenade in wet weather. Numerous fountains, 

all more or less curiosities in their 
way, supply the town with abund¬ 
ance of fresh water. Many of these 
are adorned with statues, the bear 
being of course pre-eminent; whilst 
others represent Moses, David, 
Samson, and various celebrities 
mentioned in sacred and profane 
history. The most remarkable, 
however, is one surmounted with 
a comical figure representing an 
ogre in the act of devouring a 
child. Over his shoulder is slung 
a bag filled with similar provender; 
but in their struggles to escape the 
children have broken a hole in it, 
and the occupants, who would ap¬ 
pear to have been fattened up for 
culinary use, have slipped through the rent, and 
are seen scampering away as fast as their extreme 











































Chap. VIII. ENGLISH CHURCH SERVICE. 161 


obesity will permit. Some persons profess to 
recognize in the statue of the ogre a representa¬ 
tion of Saturn; why I know not, as it in no way 
resembles the generally accepted image of that 
“ King of the Cannibal Islands.” 

I met at the table d'hote a gentleman whom I 
had last seen on the Righi. My new friend 
seemed to be a person incapable of forming any 
definite purpose. According to his own account 
he had been wandering about Switzerland for 
some time past, with no settled intention of 
striking out for himself a fixed and determinate 
route. In the course of his wanderings, or rather 
meanderings, he had, as it were, strayed to Berne, 
was unable to assign any satisfactory reason for 
his having got there, and had not the remotest 
shadow of a notion where he should go when he 
left it. 

Next day, being Sunday, I and my indefinite 
friend attended service at the English minister’s. 
The attendance was good, but the officiating 
clergyman gabbled through the prayers as if 
anxious to get them done with as speedily 
as possible. His manner of delivering his 
sermon—a very good one, by the way—was 
slow and impressive, and altogether in marked 
contrast with his previous performance. After 

M 








162 


WOMEN OF BERNE. 


Chap. VIII. 


service we wandered about the town and neigh¬ 
bourhood, confining ourselves however, as far 
as possible, to the most shady localities; for 
my friend, however indefinite he might have 
been in reference to other matters, was decidedly 
prononci on the subject of the heat, which 
was really almost unbearable. The bears had 
collected a numerous congregation of citizens, 
male and female. The latter, clad in their clean 
and striking gala costumes, looked exceedingly 
picturesque; their features however were, with¬ 
out exception, coarse and masculine, and I 
looked in vain amongst them for a tolerably 
passable face. It seemed to be a part of the 
Sunday amusement of the Bernese to tantalize 
the bears by lowering to them string baited with 
biscuit, drawing it away when just within their 
grasp. Exasperated by repeated failures, the 
poor beasts would frantically leap at the bait, 
missing which they fell upon their ponderous 
sterns with a heavy thud, each successive failure 
being hailed with uproarious laughter. The 
poor brutes reminded me of a man who is con¬ 
scious of being laughed at, without being able 
to comprehend the joke, and not knowing what 
else to do, joins in the merriment with a rue¬ 
ful grin. 







Chap. VIII. 


FREYBURG. 


163 


Later in the afternoon we found the platform 
(an elevated terrace above the Aar) crowded 
with townspeople of the working-class, enjoying 
their holiday beneath the delightful shade of the 
chestnuts. From this lofty position we obtained 
a fine sunset-view of the mountain-peaks and 
glaciers of the Oberland. As the departing lumi¬ 
nary slowly sunk below the horizon, the roseate 
tints gradually subsided into their natural white, 
and the lofty points of this elevated region re¬ 
mained distinctly visible long after the fading 
twilight had enveloped surrounding objects in 
gloom. 

I left Berne next day at 9.30 a.m., my 
fellow-traveller in the coups being a lady-pas¬ 
senger of discreet age. She was a Bernese, and 
proved to be a chatty, lively, and agreeable com¬ 
panion. We halted at Freyburg for half an 
hour, and I accepted the pressing solicitation of 
the Zaringer Hof tout to dine at the table d'hote 
then and there in progress, but was obliged to 
content myself with a very meagre repast, for 
that important ceremony occupied, as usual, so 
much time, that I was called away long before it 
was nearly over. 

After leaving Freyburg we traversed a fine 
rich country, celebrated for its cheese, called 


m 2 





164 


VEVAY. 


Chap. VIII. 


Gruyeres, which is much in favour with conti¬ 
nental gourmands. Bulle, a small town midway 
between Freyburg and Vevay, seems to be the 
chief depot for this article of commerce. The 
scenery became grander as we approached our des¬ 
tination, and the beautiful Lake Leman at length 
rewarded our expecting eyes. Its waters glistened 
in the bright moonlight, which threw into bold 
prominent relief its huge mountain borders, whose 
black and sombre outlines were relieved by the 
snow which clothed their summits. I reached 
Vevay at eight o’clock, after a long coach-drive 
of eleven hours’ duration. 

The only attraction of Vevay—to the ordinary 
tourist, at least—is its beautiful situation on the 
shores of Lake Leman ; and / chiefly remember 
it for its excellent hotel—the Trois Couronnes , 
which was remarkable for the excellence of its 
accommodation and the civility and attention 
of those connected with it. Apart, however, 
from these considerations, Vevay is a place of 
interest to the student of English history; for 
here repose the bones of the regicides Ludlow 
and Broughton, who expatriated themselves at 
the Restoration, and were fortunate enough to 
end their days in this lovely spot, instead of on 
the scaffold, which they had such good reason to 





Chap. VIII. 


CASTLE OF CHILL ON. 


165 


dread. What their fate might have been, had 
they remained at home to brave it, is pleasantly 
suggested to us by Mr. Samuel Pepys: 

“ I went out,” says that interesting but loqua¬ 
cious gossip, “ to Charing Cross, to see Major- 
General Harrison hanged, drawn, and quartered; 
which was done there, he looking as cheerful as 
any man could do in that condition. He was 
presently cut down, and his head and heart 
shown to the people, at which there was great 
shouts of joy. It is said that he said he was sure 
to come shortly at the right hand of Christ to 
judge them that now judged him; and that his 
wife do expect his coming again. Thus it was 
my chance to see the King beheaded at White¬ 
hall, and to see the first blood shed in revenge 
for the King at Charing Cross.” 

The most noteworthy object in my passage 
by steamer to Villeneuve was the castle of Chillon. 
Byron’s genius has invested it with undying in¬ 
terest, but, apart from its poetical associations, 
there is nothing striking in its external appear¬ 
ance. The neighbourhood has reciprocated the 
kindness of the poet by treasuring his name and 
memory ; and midway between Chillon and \ ille- 
neuve I passed a large hotel called the Hotel 
Byron. 




i66 


FALL OF THE SALLENCHE. Ch. VIII. 


I had to wait an hour at Villeneuve for the 
next train to Bex. Arrived at this last-named 
place, I secured, as I fancied, but at any rate 
paid for, a seat in the coupe of the omnibus to 
Martigny. Having set my mind at rest on this 
subject, I employed the short interval of time 
allowed me in obtaining some refreshment at 
the Union inn. On my return I found that 
my seat was gone, the coupi being occupied by 
three members of the weaker sex, who had, it 
appeared, secured their places early in the morn¬ 
ing. Fortunately the box was vacant, a far 
superior place in the beautiful weather which now 
prevailed. Leaving Bex we crossed the Rhone 
by the one-arched bridge of St. Maurice, and 
traversed the valley of the Rhone, wdiich abounds 
with stupendous though barren scenery. After 
passing St. Maurice, and at no great distance 
from Martigny, we came upon the well-knowm 
cascade of the Sallenche, a noble fall of some 
300 feet. I reached Martigny before dusk, and 
previously to retiring to rest engaged a man and 
his mule to carry me over the Tete Noir on the 
morrow. 

I slept soundly, undisturbed by the “ cousins,” 
the local name for mosquitoes, which are said to 
flourish in this neighbourhood, in common with 







Chap. VIII. VALLEY OF THE RHONE. 


167 


the distressing afflictions of goitre and cretinism. 
Early breakfast over, I found my mule and its 
master already waiting for me at the inn-door, 
and left Martigny for my long ride at my usual 
travelling hour of eight o’clock. Crossing the 
Dranse, I now began to ascend the Forclaz, and 



halted several times on my upward progress, to 
glance back upon the glorious and unrivalled 
scenery of the valley of the Rhone. I crossed a 
mountain torrent which has its source in the 
glacier of Trient, and at last reached the head ot 
the pass, halting for a while at the little inn 




i68 


ON MULE-BA CK. 


Chap. VIII. 


called the Hotel de la Tete Noir , a sort of mid¬ 
way house between Chamouni and Martigny, 
situate in the very centre of the grand and varied 
scenery of cliff and mountain, precipice and 
torrent, with which this pass so richly abounds. 
Whilst here a gentleman and lady passed me 
whom I had last seen at Baden-Baden. I mention 
the circumstance to show how curiously tourists 
pass and repass each other in a course of con¬ 
tinental pilgrimage. 

I walked nearly the whole way from “ the 
Hotel ” to Chamouni; for mule-back, until you 
get used to it, is by no means a comfortable or 
agreeable mode of conveyance. It is all very well 
up-hill, but on level ground the motion is un¬ 
pleasant, and in descents nearly intolerable. The 
patient animal which carried me was a very indif¬ 
ferent one, for he stumbled several times in 
awkward places, and once almost succeeded in 
sending me flying over an ugly precipice. After 
a time the white summit of Mont Blanc appeared 
in view; and a wild and desolate gorge conducted 
me to the Barriere d’Argentiere, where my pass¬ 
port was demanded, and I exchanged rtiy jolt¬ 
ing, stumbling, but patient beast for a dilapidated 
and unsavoury gig. The muleteer and I did 
not part friends, as he attempted to extort six 


Chap. VIII. 


ARRIVAL AT CHAMOUNI. 


169 


francs more than I had agreed to give him; 
and after some mutual vituperation in English 
and French, the difficulty was adjusted by his 
receiving half-a-franc more than he was justly 
entitled to. 

A frisky pony was now harnessed to the dilapi¬ 
dated chariot, and off we started at so tremendous 
a pace that it was really a matter of astonishment 
to me how the shaky timbers contrived to hold 
together. As we dashed over the rugged road, 
the ancient vehicle quivered in every plank, and 
I momentarily expected to find myself sprawl¬ 
ing in the bed of some inconveniently stony 
brook. I arrived, however, at Chamouni in 
safety, my journey, unlike the short description 
I have given of it, having occupied no less than 
ten hours. 

I found the English assembled at the Hotel de 
Londres et d‘'Angleterre in far greater numbers 
than I had ever before met them. Indeed, they 
entirely monopolized the hotel, if I except the 
small sprinkling of Americans present, easily dis¬ 
tinguishable by their more communicative and 
colloquial tendencies. Dinner over, the ladies 
retired into the general sitting-room, and left the 
gentlemen to enjoy their cigars, and form plans 
and parties for to-morrow’s campaign. For my- 




CHAM O UNI. 


Chap. VIII. 


170 


self, I adjourned with a few congenial spirits to 
the balcony of the hotel, and, as evening drew on, 
watched the shadows gather around the glistening 
shoulders of the gigantic mountain. 
















































( 1 7 1 ) 


CHAPTER IX. 

A Wet Day—The Montanvert—Crossing the Glacier—The 
Mauvais Pas—Adventurous Ladies—Glacier de Bossons— 
Cascades Pelerins and Dard—A Faint-hearted Tourist— 
High Life below Stairs—Flegere—Departure of a Party for 
Mont Blanc—Chamouni to Geneva. 



WOEFUL spec¬ 
tacle presented it¬ 
self on the morrow. 
Looking from my 
bedroom window 
in the expecta¬ 
tion of beholding a 
lovely morning, I 
found the vale of 
Chamouni com¬ 
pletely filled with 
masses of heavy 
rolling vapour, so thick in texture that I could 
barely distinguish objects at a few yards’ distance. 






172 


THE MONTANVERT. 


Chap. IX. 


There was, however, no help for it; I could not 
afford to wait until the mist had cleared entirely 
away; and accordingly, after breakfast, I strolled 
forth, selected the most promising-looking from 
a host of disengaged mules, and started for the 
Montanvert. 

The mass of drizzling vapour closed around 
me as I plunged into it, and quickly veiled 
Chamouni and all surrounding objects from my 
view. We managed to strike the path leading to 
the summit—a steep winding ascent, bordered by 
huge boulders, against which the spiteful mule 
made many futile attempts to rasp my legs. The 
damp increased as I mounted upwards, an un¬ 
comfortable drizzle giving place to an uncom¬ 
promising rain. Our route in many places 
appeared to have been traversed by the winter 
avalanches, which make a clean sweep of every¬ 
thing, snapping the mountain pines like sticks of 
sealing-wax. In due time I reached the chalet , 
and stood upon the shore of the great frozen sea, 
which imperceptibly, though surely, pursues its 
silent course into the valley below. Looking 
upwards, the mist would sometimes open and give 
me an occasional peep of the lofty granite pin¬ 
nacles which frowned from the dizzy heights 






Chap. IX. 


THE “MER EE GLACE.” 


i 73 


above. A cheerful fire blazed in the chalet , and 
some moist men were making praiseworthy but 
ineffectual efforts to dry their dripping garments 
thereat. Before crossing the glacier I fixed some 
nails in my unarmed heels, and qualified the 
damp atmosphere I had inhaled with a cup of 
hot coffee seasoned with an infusion of cognac. 

The name “ Mer de Glace ” seems singularly 
inappropriate, as the downward flow of the frozen 
current gives it more the appearance of a cataract 
than that of a sea or river. Coleridge appears to 
have been impressed with this idea when he thus 
addresses the glaciers : 

“ Who called you forth from night and utter death, 

From dark and icy caverns called you forth, 

Down those precipitous, black-jagged rocks, 

For ever shattered and the same for ever? 

Who gave you your invulnerable life, 

Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, 
Unceasing thunder and eternal foam? 

And who commanded—and the silence came— 

‘ Here let the billows stiffen and have rest?’ 

Ye icefalls! ye that from the mountain’s brow 
Adown enormous ravines slope amain— 

Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, 

And stopped at once amidst their maddest plunge, 
Motionless torrents / silent cataracts /” 


Fancy a vast mass of swollen waters, rushing 
from their sources in the mountains above, sud- 



174 


CROSSING THE GLACIER . 


Chap. IX. 


denly congealed in their headlong descent, each 
wave of the rapids frozen, as it were, into a solid 
mass, and you gain some idea of this wonderful 
ice sea. The glacier in its progress has fretted to 
powder the edges of its rocky channel, leaving on 
either hand a border of fine earthy gravel, called 
“ Moraine.” I crossed the sea in company with 
the muleteer, and preceded for a short distance by 
a man with a hatchet, who was at times of service 
in levelling the sharpened edges of some of the 
frozen waves and boulders, rendered unusually 
slippery by the ceaseless rain. Here and there, 
the course of the stream was traversed by vast 
fissures of a ghastly blue colour, and of incalcul¬ 
able depth ; occasionally these crevasses were 
wide enough to bar our progress, and in these 
cases they were bridged by planks laid upon short 
ladders. A deep and solemn silence pervaded 
the whole of this solitary sea, broken occasionally 
by deep and hollow reverberations as some 
huge block of ice or granite became detached 
from its station, and rolled helplessly into the 
azure depths of some of the yawning fissures. 

The passage of the glacier occupied us some 
five-and-twenty minutes; and arrived at the op¬ 
posite moraine, I looked back and surveyed 







Chap. IX. 


THE MA UVAIS PAS . 


1 75 


with astonishment the mass of sea-green waves 
and pinnacles, and congratulated myself that all 
my little difficulties were ended. In this, how¬ 
ever, I was somewhat premature, for I had yet to 
traverse the face of a cliff by a narrow ledge of 
rock cut in the side of a precipice which sloped 
perpendicularly below. The passage of the Mauvais 
Pas is now, I believe, rendered safe and secure by 
the addition of a handrail, but at the time I passed 
it there was nothing to trust to but a rope let 
into the rocky walls. This, of course, would under 
ordinary circumstances have been all-sufficient, 
but as it was, it was no better than a rope of sand ; 
for the ceaseless drip from above had rotted its 
strands, and a really formidable corner had to be 
turned, where a false step might have proved 
more fatal than a fall from an ice-wave. The wet, 
too, had rendered the rocky ledge unusually slip¬ 
pery, but I happily crossed it without difficulty. 

By the time I reached the little hut on the 
chapeau , I was soaked with rain, and again qua¬ 
lified the reeking atmosphere with some warm 
St. George, which—execrable on any other oc¬ 
casion—was delightfully soothing under present 
circumstances. I steamed myself over the fire 
for half an hour, and was just dozing off, when I 



176 


AD VENTUR 0 US LADIES. 


Chap. IX. 


was startled into the dripping atmosphere again 
by a piercing scream, which came from the direc¬ 
tion of the Mauvais Pas. Here I found some 
ladies and gentlemen, who happily got over safely ; 
but at the ugly corner before-mentioned, some of 
the ladies fainted, and were brought over with 


considerable difficulty by their guide and com¬ 
panions. They were much frightened, and as¬ 
sured me that they would never be so venture¬ 
some again. With all due deference to lady 
tourists, if they must do this sort of thing let me 
implore them to leave their crinolines at home. 

















Chap. IX. 


NEW BOOTS. 


177 


The ladies I refer to were conspicuous for the 
size and volume of their petticoats, and found 
them sadly in the way. 

My boots—purchased at Venice, and apparently 
made of strong and durable materials—were so 



effectually ruined by the unaccustomed scram¬ 
bling, and exhibited so many gaping holes, that 
I found them next day unfit for further service. 
I therefore repaired to the village Crispin, and 

N 







178 


A DANDY DUTCHMAN. 


Chap. IX. 


exhausted his patience and my own in trying on 
every boot and shoe in the establishment. Judg¬ 
ing by the patterns produced, feet at Chamouni 
must run large, for each boot seemed—at least 
to my excited imagination — to have been 
moulded on a giant’s last. After a time, however, 
I met with a pair which, with careful management 
and by cunningly stuffing the toes, could be in¬ 
duced to remain on my feet; and thus shod, I 
betook myself to the Glacier des Bossons, en route 
for the Cascade des Pelerins. 

The guide-books tell us, that a block of 
stone wedged in the centre of this fall once 
caused it to shoot forward in the shape of an 
arch; time, however, having removed the cause, 
the effect has ceased, and the result is decidedly 
disappointing. An easy five minutes more 
brought me to the pretty, picturesque Cascade 
du Dard. Some young fellows passed me as I 
stood gazing at the fall, and hailed me in such 
unexceptionable English, that I was surprised to 
find they were Dutchmen. One of them was a 
perfect dandy, and sported boots very suitable, 
say, for the streets of Amsterdam, but utterly un¬ 
fitted for the passage of the Glacier des Bossons. 
Fancy crossing a glacier in patent leather boots! 






Ch. IX. A FAINT-HEARTED TOURIST 


179 



After the day’s table cChote I found some 
men in the smoking-room chaffing a companion 
whose heart had failed him at the Cheminee— 
the rock which has 
to be surmounted 
before reaching the 
summit of the Bre- 
vent. He pleaded 
fatigue, which only 
made matters worse, 
for they unfeelingly 
inquired whether fa¬ 
tigue had prompted 
him to decline cross¬ 
ing the Mer de 
Glace on the pre¬ 
vious day. He got 
so unmercifully 
badgered, that the 
poor fellow at length 
slunk away and 
joined the ladies, 
where, being tolerably good-looking, and blessed 
with an efficient stock of “ small talk,” he seemed 
to be better appreciated. 

I strolled forth in the evening, and viewed 


N 2 





















i8o 


HIGH LIFE BELOW STALES. Ch. IX. 


Mont Blanc by the light of a brilliant moon. 
The huge mountain, always grand and imposing, 
has a singularly beautiful appearance when seen 
by her clear pale beams, which light up its hoary 
summit and lend to its glacier recesses the appear¬ 
ance of fretted silver. The night was so fine and 
the scene so exquisitely beautiful that time in¬ 
sensibly passed on; and it was so late when I 
returned that I almost expected to find the doors 
closed against me. I was therefore surprised on 
entering the hotel to hear musical sounds pro¬ 
ceeding from the direction of the sitting-room, 
and still more so, when in the performer I recog¬ 
nized one of the waiters, and saw that his audience 
was composed exclusively of the domestics of 
the establishment. I took my seat amongst 
the company, and listened with pleasure to the 
singer’s fine manly voice. The waiter was a 
thorough musician, and played his own accom¬ 
paniment with all the nonchalant grace of an 
accomplished performer. The situation was a 
strange one to an Englishman unaccustomed to 
witness so unusual a scene; the company, how¬ 
ever, were evidently used to this sort of thing, 
and were perfectly indifferent to the presence of 
a stranger. 



Chap. IX. FLEGERE. 181 

On the last of my days at Chamouni I 
ascended the Flegere, for the purpose of obtaining 
a view of the great range over which Mont Blanc 
dominates as monarch. I chose the Flegere in 
preference to the Brevent, because the former is 
practicable all the way for mule travelling. This— 
at least to me—was a consideration, for the heat 
was too great for climbing with any regard to 
personal comfort. My objection to inconvenient 
exertion had become a matter of notoriety to 
some of my temporary friends; and one of them 
(an American) remarked as I rode off, “Well, 
stranger, I rather reckon you are about one of 
the most sensible men I ever saw, for I notice 
that you never walk when you can ride.” 

From the summit of the Flegere, 6,350 feet 
in height, I beheld the mighty range intersected 
here and there by broad streams of glacier, which 
lay spread out before me in one long ridge of crag 
and mountain, clamped with ice and crowned 
with snow. There was neither mist nor vapour, 
and the great hoary giant lay revealed in all his 
majesty from foot to summit. Viewed, however, 
from this position, Mont Blanc appears rather to 
recede than to stand completely upright; so that 
you fail thoroughly to appreciate his wondrous 





182 DESCENT FROM THE FLEGERE. Ch. IX. 

and lofty stature. From the point where the 
snow-line commences pinnacles of granite shoot 
rocket-like some 13,000 feet into the air; and 
conspicuous among them was the lofty needle¬ 
like point of the Aiguille du Midi. Immediately 
below it ran the silvery ice-stream of the Glacier 
des Blerens; the vale of Chamouni forming an 
appropriate and beautiful base-line to the whole 
of the gigantic landscape, which was rendered 
all the more striking and impressive by reason of 
its close proximity, and the clearness of the sur¬ 
rounding atmosphere. 

I descended of course on foot, choosing the 
shortest route which presented itself. This, how¬ 
ever, abounded with loose stones and rocky frag¬ 
ments, some of which I involuntarily dislodged 
in my rapid descent. I reached the foot before 
my guide, and endeavoured to urge my mule 
homewards; but the brute was perfectly conscious 
of his master’s absence, and obstinately refused to 
move. In the struggle which ensued I came off' 
victorious, but not until I had provided myself 
with an efficient assistant in the shape of a stout 
switch. 

At the day’s table cChote an Englishman found 
himself in the position of a hero, the observed of 





Ch. IX. A BREACH OF CONFIDENCE. 


183 


all observers. It appeared that he meditated 
ascending Mont Blanc on the morrow, and had 
incautiously communicated his intention under 
the solemn seal of secrecy to a trusted companion. 
The result was, that the treacherous friend imme¬ 
diately told some one else, who in turn took 
another into his confidence; and thus the fact 
became generally known throughout the length 
and breadth of the hotel, and for the time created 
quite an excitement, which culminated as the 
adventurer was seen this evening in earnest con¬ 
ference with some of the most experienced of the 
Chamouni guides. On descending to breakfast 
the next morning I found the salle-a-manger 
empty, both waiters and visitors having joined the 
villagers, who, according to custom, had gathered 
to witness the departure of the party. The adven¬ 
turous spirit—-who, by the way, had endeavoured 
to persuade me to accompany him on his expedi¬ 
tion—now formed the centre of a privileged circle 
of glacier scramblers and cragsmen. The scene 
was an animated one. One by one the guides 
assembled, accompanied by their families, and 
there was much weeping and lamentation as the 
expeditionary force, numbering some dozen stout 
men, left Chamouni. The party was well pro- 







18 4 DEPARTURE FOR MONT PLANO. Ch. IX. 


vided with provender, one daring mountaineer 
clasping a gigantic brown loaf to his manly 
bosom. In addition to this, the guides carried 
various et ccetera , comprising warm clothing, 
veils, massive shoes, armed with crampons, rope 



ladders, and well-seasoned alpenstocks. Reckless 
of breakfast, many persons accompanied the 
party across the Arve as far as the Cascade des 
Pelerins. I met our friend afterwards, and learnt 
that he had accomplished the ascent without 


* 



















Chap. IX. 


CHAMOUNI TO GENEVA. 


185 


personal inconvenience; but two of the guides 
were frostbitten, and lost a toe or two, and he 
was obliged to bring them on to Geneva for 
medical treatment. 

The sun was gilding the shoulders of Mont 
Blanc as I shook hands with some of my late 
companions, and took my seat in a crazy vehicle 
destitute of springs, apparently the handiwork of 
some defunct coachbuilder of the middle ages, 
and by which I intended to proceed to St. Martin, 
at which place I hoped to meet with the diligence 
to Geneva. I find it quite beyond my power to 
convey any adequate idea of my sufferings during 
this memorable journey. Suffice it, then, to say, 
that we started off at a round pace, and that every 
breath of air was speedily jolted out of my suffer¬ 
ing body; but on we went, picking up passengers 
as we proceeded, until our interior was full. 
There was no exterior, by the way, for the chariot 
was of indescribable shape ; but this did not deter 
adventurous spirits from accommodating them¬ 
selves by hanging on behind. Whether they got 
sick of it I know not, but these last dropped off 
at Servoz and Chede. From Sallenche, where 
we halted for a brief space, I obtained a fine view 
of Mont Blanc. Viewed from a distance it im- 



186 AN INQUISITIVE ENGLISHMAN. Ch. IX. 




presses the imagination with a true notion of its 
size and height. You are too close at Chamouni 
to properly realize its effect. The mountain 
really acquires height as you recede from it en 
route to Geneva, which is said to be 2000 feet 
lower than the vale of Chamouni. 

Pending the preparation of breakfast a la 
fourchette at St. Martin’s, I strolled over the 
bridge which crosses the Arve, and thence ob¬ 
tained another magnificent view of the great 
white mountain. My gaiters prompted an in¬ 
quisitive Englishman to inquire whether I had ac¬ 
complished the ascent, and he evidently regarded 
me with less respect when I answered his question 
in the negative. 

I was the only occupant of the coups com¬ 
partment of the diligence to Geneva. We 
speedily left St. Martin’s behind us, for our 
horses being in good condition, and accustomed 
to work together, we got over the first few miles 
of our journey very rapidly, at least for diligence 
travelling. The route abounded with scenery of 
mingled crag and waterfall, and close to the road, 
seven or eight hundred feet down, fell the grace¬ 
ful cascade of Arpenaz. Passing Maglan we 
traversed a narrow valley, galloped through the 



Chap. IX. ENTRANCE INTO GENEVA. 


1 87 


< 

town of Cluses (a long straggling street of houses), 
and halted to change our team at Bonneville. 
This operation was performed by a singularly 
irritable ostler, bristling, so to speak, with oaths, 
who swore at the horses in curiously profane 
French. At Bonneville some strong hardy young 
fellows joined us, who blubbered like children at 
parting from their friends, who cried and roared in 
chorus around the departing diligence. Eighteen 
miles further on we thundered into Geneva, the 
horses’ hoofs striking fire in the dusky twilight as 
they galloped over the flinty stones. The merry 
jingle of our bell-fringed harness and the sharp 
detonations of the postilion’s whip created quite a 
sensation as we entered the town. 








CHAPTER X. 


Geneva—Lyons—French Soldiers and French Hats—Revolu¬ 
tionary Memories of Lyons—Dijon—Soldiers again—The 
Ducal Palace—The Museum — u Messieurs les Voyageitrs, ftre- 
fxirez vos billets /” 



FTER calling 
at the poste 
restante , and 
taking up cer¬ 
tain letters 
which awaited 
my arrival, I 
strolled about 
the streets of 
Geneva, whose 
magnificent 
appearance, as 
compared with 
that of other Swiss towns, considerably impressed 


me. It is, however, as all the world knows, a 


place of great mercantile importance, and pos¬ 
sesses some handsome buildings; the Quai du 
































Chap. X. 


GENE VA. 


189 


Rohan in particular being bordered with line 
hotels and extensive watchmakers’ and jewellers’ 
establishments. I saw the cathedral, the exterior 
and interior of which is painfully plain, precise, 
and simple ; the large and gloomy Hotel de Ville ; 
and the Botanical Gardens, these last being chiefly 
remarkable for their elegant fountains, and for trees 
and shrubs rejoicing in the hard and preposterous 
titles assigned to them by botanical luminaries. 

After wandering about the streets, exposed to 
the rays of a blazing sun at its meridian height, 
I varied my walk by crossing to the Isle de 
Bergues; and here found myself in a delightfully 
shady region, provocative of contemplation, and 
adorned with a statue of Rousseau by his fellow- 
townsman, Pradier. While sitting here away 
from the dust and heat, and in the thorough 
enjoyment of my otium cum dig nit ate, I bethought 
me of the many illustrious persons who, by birth 
or residence, have dignified Geneva; amongst 
them I remembered the names of Calvin, De 
Lolme, Pictet, Lefort, Necker, his talented but 
somewhat eccentric daughter Madame de Stael, 
Rousseau, Sismondi, and many others no less 
distinguished in their day and generation. 

At night-time the jewellers’ and watchmakers’ 
establishments became resplendent with gas, and 


190 


CHIMNE YS OF GENE VA. 


Chap. X. 


under its brilliant light the glittering wares and 
knick-knacks so temptingly displayed became alto¬ 
gether irresistible. Travellers, especially English 
people, are ready to fall into the snare thus plea¬ 
santly prepared for them by the cunning crafts¬ 
men, and invest to an extent which at home 
might lead to the interference of the chancellor 
and the advent of a writ de lunatico inquirendo. 
I met many persons who had been severely 
attacked with this mania, which is very contagious, 
and found myself obliged to tear myself from the 
tempting locality lest I, too, should catch the 
infection. 

While Ghent has gone mad on the subject of 
its electric clocks, and Berne evinces a maniacal 
penchant for bears, the weak point of Geneva has 
developed itself in chimneys. There was really 
not a straight one in the place ; contorted and 
twisted into almost every conceivable and incon¬ 
ceivable position, and bending in opposite direc¬ 
tions as if each had quarrelled hopelessly with its 
neighbour, they collectively presented an appear¬ 
ance ludicrously suggestive of discord. 

At ten o’clock the next morning I bade adieu 
to Geneva, and took my seat in the train en route 
for Lyons. Half an hour afterwards 1 passed 
the French fortification of Fort de fEcluse, and, 




Chap. X. 


BELLEGARDE. 


1 9 1 


halted at length at Bellegarde, where the authori¬ 
ties evinced some curiosity on the subject of my 
passport. This document having been carefully 
considered and passed, I returned to my carriage, 
not suspecting that any further ordeal had to be 
gone through before being permitted to resume 
my journey. After some considerable time had 
elapsed, a preternaturally tall gendarme made his 
appearance, and walking along the platform, nar¬ 
rowly inspected each carriage until he reached 
the one in which I sat placidly and contentedly 
awaiting the departure of the train, and not for 
an instant dreaming that I was the innocent 
cause of its detention. The tall gendarme now 
gave utterance to some strange sounds, in which, 
after mature consideration, I recognized a frantic 
effort on the part of the worthy official to pro¬ 
nounce the syllables of my own name. I at once 
obeyed his summons, and followed the gigantic 
but civil officer into the waiting-room, where I 
beheld some angry douaniers holding inquest 
over my unfortunate portmanteau, which they 
appeared to be vainly endeavouring to rend 
asunder, alternating their agreeable exertions by 
frantically shouting for the key. Of course after 
my suspicious conduct, it was but natural for the 
officers to suppose that I was a smuggler of more 





192 


L YONS. 


Chap. X. 


than ordinary pretension, or possibly an arch-con¬ 
spirator, whose luggage was mainly composed of 
bomb-shells destined for the special delectation of 
His Majesty Napoleon III., and the illustrious 
members of his domestic circle. Whatever their 
suspicions might have been, they were speedily 



set at rest on the opening of the detained port¬ 
manteau ; and I had barely time to repack and 
get my luggage replaced in the van, ere the train 
started off again. 

Arrived at Lyons, I entered an omnibus, 
which in the course of its progress to the hotel 
carried me through the midst of a regiment of 





















Chap. X. 


FRENCH SOLDIERS. 


i 93 


dragoons. Taken as a specimen of a French 
cavalry corps, they were as miserable a set of 
fellows as could have been got together. Their 
uniforms and helmets were at least a size too large 
for them, whilst their horses were as much too 
small, and the miserable riders themselves looked 



as if they had been fed on short commons for 
many weeks past. 

Soldiers abounded everywhere. The officers 
sauntered about in groups of threes and fours, 
with the rolling gait peculiar to our own Jack 
tars. With their hands thrust deeply down into 














































1 94 


FRENCH HA TS. 


Chap. X. 


the pockets of their baggy scarlet pantaloons, 
their slim unmanly waists, and the curious seesaw 
motion which characterized their walk, they 
presented an appearance suggestive of highly- 
coloured peg-tops which had nearly run down. 

I had been obliged long since to discard the 
“ chimney-pot ” of civilized life for the more 
portable and accommodating wideawake. The 
former impracticable head-dress had at an early 
period of my travels evinced a disagreeable incli¬ 
nation to become bristly; soon the softest of 
brushes failed to exercise any soothing influence 
upon the exasperated and rebellious nap, the sun 
and dust had conspired to complete its demorali¬ 
zation, and its former glossy hue had forsaken it 
altogether, and been replaced by an unwholesome 
and dusky bronze. I now began to look about 
me for a successor; but I could not venture 
upon one of the extraordinary hats which flaunted 
themselves defiantly in the shop-windows, and 
evinced an unnatural tendency to roll up at the 
brim, as if they had been subjected to the curling 
irons, and had undergone a preliminary twist 
before being permitted to make their appearance 
in public. I determined, therefore, to defer my 
purchase until my arrival in Paris, where I ex¬ 
pected to find a hat more closely approaching 




Chap. X. 


FRENCH STATUES. 


J 95 


the idea realized by Messrs. Lincoln and Bennett. 
Alas! I knew not till afterwards what a task I 
had set myself to accomplish. Gentle reader, 
was it ever your fortune—or rather misfortune— 
to search for an English hat in Paris ? If not, 
let me assure you that rummaging an average¬ 
sized haystack in search of a missing needle is 
the merest child’s play to it. 

Lyons, as befits the chief manufacturing town 
of France, is a grand and imposing city. The 
Rue Imperiale is a right noble street, and the 
Place Bellecour the finest square, without excep¬ 
tion, I ever beheld. It was a sight to see it in 
the cool of the evening brilliantly lighted up, 
filled with soldiers and citizens, and enlivened bv 
the strains of a military band. The square is 
planted with limes, and is adorned with two hand¬ 
some fountains and a fine statue of Louis the 
Fourteenth. Statues, by the way, do not, as a 
general rule, run mad in France, as they seem to 
do with us. France could no more match the 
hideous effigy of the Iron Duke, than she could 
hope to beat the great living original at Waterloo. 
The far-famed equestrian of Leicester Square — 
recently immortalized by clever but wicked wags 
—stands altogether without a rival. As for the 
stony pigtail of his Majesty King George the 







PAST REMINISCENCES. 


Chap. X. 


196 


Third, it could not be matched anywhere out of 
England. 

Lyons abounds with sanguinary reminiscences 
of the French Revolution. The Hotel de Ville 
was a silent witness of the terrible scenes enacted 
in its presence. Here it was that the scaffold 
was erected in 1793 ; but the fetid odour became 
at length so noxious, that it was obliged to be 
removed to another situation. With horrible 
utilitarianism, the ghastly guillotine was next set 
up over the mouth of an open drain, which carried 
the gore direct into the Rhone. The mouth of 
this sewer opened out close to the station where 
the laundresses washed their linen, and the river 
became so charged with human blood that they 
were obliged to betake themselves to another 
station. 

The presiding genius, the inventor indeed of 
the diabolical massacres which inaugurated the 
triumph of liberty at Lyons, was the infamous 
Collot d’Herbois, and of all the dramas in which 
this man took part, the most extraordinary was 
that in which he found himself transferred from 
the indifferent comedian into the stern and 
virtuous (?) republican. Of all the wretches who 
have made the revolution infamous, and soiled 
the pages of French history with their blood- 







Chap. X. 


COLLOT D'HERBOIS. 


197 


stained hands, commend me to this monster : he 
was a very professor of the science of murder. 
The daily execution by guillotine of some forty 
innocent persons was far too slow a method of 
disposing of the thousands of victims condemned 
to die by Collot d’Herbois, in revenge for the 
hisses which had greeted his appearance at the 
local theatre some ten years before. He there¬ 
fore instituted the famous Mitratllades; and he 
and his worthy associate—afterwards the infamous 
Duke of Otranto—placidly stood by and watched 
the agonies of tender and delicate women, as the 
cruel grape-shot tore them literally limb from 
limb, and filled the ditches on either side of the 
fatal lines with torrents of blood. 

And yet this monster—this indifferent come¬ 
dian, but terribly earnest and practical tragedian— 
this high-priest of the goddess of Reason—may 
possibly not lack, in these maudlin days of ours, 
an apologist for his crimes. Some one has already, 
I think, endeavoured to convince us that Robes¬ 
pierre, after all, was really not the monster of 
cruelty which history has emphatically pronounced 
dini to be. Poor fellow! he was only a mistaken 
man whose rigid notions of virtue (?) prompted 
him to commit innumerable murders, honestly 
believing the while that he was doing the State 







MADAME ROLAND. 


Chap. X. 


198 


good service in ridding it of all who opposed or 
might oppose his own individual ambition. This 
is, indeed, an apology with a vengeance, worthy of 
the age which grudgingly doles out twelve miser¬ 
able lashes to the merciless garotter, and consigns 
the wretch who beats his wife out of all semblance 
of humanity, to a month’s residence in a prison 
more comfortable in every respect than his own 
wretched home. Some persons, however, are re¬ 
markable for the inverted views with which they 
regard every subject which is presented to their 
notice. In the opinion of some of the philosophers 
of this class, the monster who drained France of 
her best and noblest blood—who ruthlessly de¬ 
prived thousands of innocent children of their 
parents, and parents of their children—who had 
no heart, no human sympathies—who signed the 
death-warrant of the woman of whose hospitality 
he had repeatedly partaken, and who had tried to 
save his own wretched life when it was endangered 
—was a maligned, an ill-used man. 

In the same year that Collot d’Herbois revelled 
at Lyons in the enjoyment of gratified revenge, 
Madame Roland passed to her death in the Place 
de la Concorde. Well might this gifted woman 
exclaim, as she sarcastically bent to the great clay 
image which overshadowed the hideous guillotine, 










Chap. X. 


DIJON. 


199 


“ O Liberty ! Liberty ! how many crimes are com¬ 
mitted in thy name!” Standing on the very 
verge of eternity, awaiting to be placed beneath 
the knife which reeked with the blood of the 
forger who had preceded her, we can fancy how 
the thoughts of that ill-fated, generous-hearted, but 
mistaken woman would involuntarily recur to the 
poor orphan child she was leaving behind her, 
and to the weak but vain man who shone for 
a brief space by the borrowed light of his wife’s 
genius, and, unable to endure her loss, perished 
miserably in a Norman ditch a day or two after 
her decapitation. 

I left Lyons next morning at ten o’clock ; 
broke my journey at Dijon, where I arrived at 
3 p.m., and established myself at a comfortable 
little inn there rejoicing in the homely sign of 
La Cloche. 

The general appearance of the ancient capital 
of Burgundy is very similar to that of an ordinary 
English market-town. Dijon has a magnificent 
cathedral, and the getting there involved no great 
amount of exertion, as it was situated in close 
proximity to the inn. A well-built street brought 
me to the Place cT Armes or Place Roy ale, in 
front of which stands the grand old palace of the 
Dukes of Burgundy, formerly used as the house 



200 


HIBERNIAN FRENCH. 


Chap. X. 


of assembly of the ancient Burgundian parliament, 
a national institution which has long since been 
numbered with the things of the past. Judging 
by the sentries posted at its gates, and the nu¬ 
merous groups of soldiery lounging about the 
building, some part of it would now appear to be 
devoted to the purposes of a barrack. Dijon, 
indeed, appeared to be one huge barrack ; for the 
streets literally bristled with military heroes, and 
shakoed heads and epauletted shoulders protruded 
themselves from open windows. Truly Napoleon 
has sown the dragon’s teeth to some purpose ; and 
past events have already shown us that, with time 
and opportunity in his favour, he is not particularly 
scrupulous to what purposes he turns the vast war¬ 
like material he has been so many years collecting. 

I imagined myself to be the only one of Her 
Majesty’s subjects present at to-day’s table d'hote; 
but in this I was mistaken, and was startled when 
the owner of an unusually dirty face and unkempt 
beard requested me, in the richest brogue, to pass 
him “ the praties.” Beside him sat a lady of 
ample proportions, who had evidently passed her 
meridian ; and whom, with true Hibernian ec¬ 
centricity, he introduced to me as his wife, con¬ 
fidentially telling me at the same time that they 
were but recently married. The lady, with praise- 






Chap. X. 


THE DUCAL PALACE. 


201 


worthy but mistaken perseverance, tried hard 
to establish a conversation with an opposite 
neighbour. Her French, however, proved so un¬ 
manageable, that she was compelled to give it up 
in despair. Luckily the French lady’s English 
was not altogether so unwieldy; and with some 
good-natured assistance from their neighbours, 
they contrived to hold an intelligible conversation. 

I rose early next morning, and, as I did not 
leave Dijon till midday, had ample time for 
wandering about the interesting town. On the 
recommendation of the hostess of La Cloche , I 
visited the museum in the old ducal palace, and 
saw there, among other curiosities, ecclesiastical 
and secular, the elegant marble tombs of Philippe 
le Hardi, and Jean sans Peur his son. The 
museum also comprised a collection of indifferent 
paintings, the works of modern French artists. 

One of my fellow-travellers from Dijon was a 
gay lieutenant travelling to Paris in command of a 
detachment of soldiers. He was a silent com¬ 
panion, however, and employed the whole of his 
time in manufacturing and smoking cigarettes, an 
amusement which probably exhausted all the re¬ 
sources of his powerful intellect. The only other 
passenger in the smoking carriage in which I 
journeyed was an Oriental traveller, who had landed 


202 


ARRIVAL AT PARIS. 


Chap. X. 


that morning at Marseilles. He spoke English as 
fluently as a native, and with scarcely any accent. 
He told me he had not seen Paris for upwards of 
ten years, and expected—as well he might—to 
find it greatly changed. 

The line of country through which we passed 
was exceedingly flat and devoid of interest, each 
side presenting almost a duplicate of the other. 
This unvarying and weary monotony rendered the 
long and tiresome journey doubly irksome ; and 
it was with a feeling of great personal relief that 
at 7 p.m. we neared the Paris terminus, and I 
heard the welcome notice of the guard, “Messieurs 
les voyageurs , preparez vos billets /” 



a Mi ii 

■ ft ///// 


LONDON! PRINTED BY WII.LIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET 

AND CHARING CROSS. 








THE BEAUTIES OF TRAVEL. 


PICTURES OF THE PYRENEES. By Gustave Dore. Comprising 

upwards of ioo Illustrations by that great artist. With a Description 
of Summer Life at French Watering-Places, by Henry Blackburn. 
Royal 8vo. cloth, price i8j\ ; or morocco extra, price 2$s. 

‘ This handsome volume will confirm the opinion of those who hold that M. Dore’s real 
strength lies in landscape. Mr. Blackburn’s share in the work is pleasant and readable, 
and is really what it pretends to be, a description of summer life at French watering-places. 
It is a bona fide record of his own experiences, told without either that abominable smart¬ 
ness, or that dismal book-making, which are the characteristics of too many illustrated 
books.’— Pall Mall Gazette. 

‘A general, but painstaking account, by a cultivated Englishman, of the general im¬ 
pression, step by step, which an ordinary Englishman, travelling for his pleasure, would 
derive from a visit to the watering-places of the Pyrenees.’— Spectator. 

LIFE IN THE LLANOS OF VENEZUELA. By Don Ramon Paez. 

With numerous Illustrations. Post 8vo., icu. 6 d. 

‘ We have read few works of travel more interesting in their way than this—it owes all 
its interest to the intrinsic character of the subject, and to the simple, unaffected, graphic 
manner in which the writer relates his experiences and describes the scenes in which he 
bore a part. The attraction of the book lies in the novel and exciting nature of the life it 
portrays, and to the extraordinary features of the Fauna and Flora of the wild regions in 
which the scene is laid. Almost every chapter of the volume—by no means a large one— 
contains some novel and interesting fact or description.’— Saturday Reviei.u. 

TRAVELLING IN SPAIN IN THE PRESENT DAY by a Party of 

Ladies and Gentlemen. By Henry Blackburn. Illustrated by 
Richard Severn and the Author. With Map and Routes. 8vo., 
cloth extra, price i6j. Also a Cheaper Edition, fcap. 8vo., 6 s; 

' A delightful book, full of shrewd and accurate notes upon Spanish character, with a 
clear and practical account of Spanish travel.’— Examiner. 

‘The author sketches the aspects of the streets with considerable humour, and with a 
correctness that all will admit who have basked in the sunshine of the Puerta del Sol.’— 
Pall Mall Gazette. 

PEAKS AND VALLEYS OF THE ALPS. From Water-Colour 
Drawings by Elijah Walton. Chromolithographed by J. H. 
Lowes. With Descriptive Text by Rev. T. G. Bonney, M.A.,F.G.S. 
Folio, half-morocco, with 21 large Plates. Original Subscription, 
8 guineas. A very limited Edition only now issued at 4/. 14T. 6 d. 

This most characteristic and beautifully illustrated Work of the Alps comprises the 
following facsimiles of Water-Colour Pictures, copied by the kind permission of their 
respective Proprietors as annexed :— 

Subject of Picture. In the possession of 

Opening of the Val de Tignes.W. Mathews, Jun., Esq., A.C. 

Monte Viso, from the Col De La Croix.J- A. Kenrick, Esq., A.C. 

Monte Viso,from the South.F. F. Tuckett, Esq., A.C. 

Winter...Miss Matthews. 

The Grand Paradis, from near Cogne.F. F. Tuckett, Esq., A.C. 

The Grivola, from the Col D’ArboIe.Rev. T..G. Bonney, A.C. 

Near Courmayeur—Cloud Streamers.Miss Phipson. 

A Torrent—Val Tournanche.Miss Phipson. 

The Velan, from near Aosta.J- A. Kenrick, Esq., A.C. 

In the Valley of Aosta.G. S. Mathews, Esq., A.C. 

Mont Blanc, from the Col d’Anterne.Viscount Powerscourt. 

Dent Du Midi, from the Valley of the Rhone . . . FFon. F. H. W. G. Calthorpe. 

Dent Du Midi, from near Champery.Sir T. F. Buxton, A.C. 

Cascade de Roget and the Point de Salles .... E. N. Buxton, Esq., A.C. 

Pointe de Tenneverges from near Sixt.R. H. Dees, Esq., A.C. 

Corner Glacier.J- A. Kenrick, Esq., A.C. 

The Matterhorn.W. E. Forster, Esq., M.P. 

The Weissdorn, from near St. Niklaus.R. S. Watson, Esq., A.C. 

Arquilles Verte and Du Dru, from Chamouni ... G. S. Mathews, Esq., A.C. 

Crevasses on the Mer de Glace.W. lurquand, Esq. 

The Glacier de Trient.F. F. Tuckett, Esq., A.C. 














THE BEAUTIES OF TRAVEL — Continued. 


THE BYE-WAYS OF EUROPE. Visits by Unfrequented Routes to 
Remarkable Places. By Bayard Taylor, Author of ‘ Views Afoot.’ 
2 vols. post 8vo., 16s. 

‘A work that we rejoice to have read.’— Examiner. 

‘ So full of excellence that it is impossible not to take leave of Mr. Bayard Taylor as a 
traveller without sincere regret.’— Spectator. 

‘ He here gives us a series of pictures which he has never excelled—taking us to scenes 
and places which will be new to most of us, and painting them wifh such vivid colours that 
they are at once stamped upon our memory.’— Athenceum. 

‘ His approach to the Republic of Andorre by the southern route from Barcelona, adopted 
in the teeth of all his friends’ advice; his exciting ride up the valley of the Cardoner and 
the perilous gorge of the Rio Segre; and his final experiences among the people of that 
singular fossil republic—all these things are told by our author in a way that will make his 
readers long to be upon his foot- teps.’— Pall Mall Gazette. 


OUR NEW WAY ROUND THE WORLD. By Charles Carleton 
Coffin, of Boston, U.S.A. With ioo Illustrations and Maps. 8vo., 
cloth, price 12s. 

%* This record of a two years’ travel in all parts of the world contains special inform¬ 
ation relative to India, China, and Japan, where the author remained examining into the 
commercial, political, educational, and religious influences of those countries. 

THE SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. The Result of Two Years’ 
Exploration of their Locality and Remains. By Mr. A. Svoboda. 
With 20 full-page Photographs taken on the spot. Edited with a pre¬ 
face by the Rev. H. B. Tristram, F.L. S. 4to., cloth extra, 2 guineas. 


***Amongst the valuable and very interesting Photographs in this volume are the following:— 


Panoramic Views of Smyrna. 

Tomb of St. Polycarp. 

The Gate of Persecutions at Ephesus. 

The Aqueducts and Castle. Ayasoloute. 
The Great Mosque. Ancient Church of St. 

John. [Diana. 

View of the Ruins of the Great Temple of 
Supposed Tomb of St. Luke. 


The Tower known as the Prison of St. Paul. 
View of the Theatre and other Remains at 
Laodicea. 

Country and Remains of Church at Phila¬ 
delphia. 

Remains of the Old Church of Sardis. 
General View of Thyatira. 

View of the Old Church of Pergamos. 


‘ Some time since we reviewed the photographs taken by Mr. Svoboda on the sites of the 
famous Christian cities of Asia Minor, and found in them much that was interesting to the 
Biblical student and historian. We have in the well-printed volume before us twenty of 
these interesting illustrations, which fairly display the present state of the ruins so deeply 
connected with the early history of Christianity. Of these Smyrna supplies four, Ephesus 
five, Laodicea two, Hieropolis one, Sardis two, Philadelphia one, Magnesia Sypilus one, 
Thyatira one, and Pergamos three. To these the author has attached a carefully-written 
and very interesting series of accounts of the ruins and their history, taken from a popular 
and Scriptural point of view. Mr. Tristram has done his share of the work well, and 
edited a capital manual which is suited not only to general readers, but as a book of 
reference on a subject about which little is known, and that little not available without 
researches which would rival those of our author.’— Athenceum. 


ARTISTS AND ARABS; or, Sketching in Sunshine. By Henry 
Blackburn, Author of £ The Pyrenees,’ &c. Numerous Illustrations. 
Demy 8vo., cloth, ioa 6d. 

‘ It is full of air and light, and its style is laden, so to speak, with a sense of unutterable 
freedom and enjoyment ; and if any new book was wanted on Algeria (which may be 
doubted) it was a book which would remind—not of the article on Algeria in a gazetteer— 
but of Turner’s picture of a sunrise on the African coast.’— Athenceum. 

‘ This is a particularly pretty book ; nicely printed on toned paper, neatly and elegantly- 
bound, and containing many exquisite illustrations and vignettes ; it fulfils all the con¬ 
ditions requisite in a new volume for the drawing-room table, and when we have ceased to 
admire the drawings and begin to read we are not disappointed at the contents, for 
although the work is avowedly light and sketchy the author always contrives to amuse us. 
His style is occasionally essentially poetical, while his descriptions of mountain and valley-, 
of sea and sky, of sunshine and storm, are vivid and picturesque .’—The Examiner. 


London: SAMPSON LOW, SON, & MARSTON, Crown Buildings 

188, Fleet Street. 




a Li0t of TBoofeo 


PUBLISHING BY 

. * 

SAMPSON LOW , SON , aaz> MAR ST ON, 

Crown Buildings, 188, Fleet Street. 




[J/nrcA, 1869. 


NEW ILLUSTRATED WORKS. 



N ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. By 

Thomas Gray. With Sixteen Water-Colour Drawings, by 
Eminent Artists, printed in Colours in facsimile of the Ori¬ 
ginals. Uniform with the Illustrated “ StoryWithout an End.” 
Royal Svo. cloth, 12s. 6d. ; or in morocco, 25s. 


“ Another edition of the immortal ‘ Elegy ,’ charmingly printed and 
gracefully bound , but with a neio feature. The illustrations are woodcuts 
in colours , and they are admirable specimens of the art." —Art Journal. 
“ Remarkable for thoughtful conception and all that artistic finish of which 
this newly-born art is capable." —Morning Post. “ Beauty and care visible 
throughout." —Standard. 

% 

THE STORY WITHOUT AN END. Fi»m the German of 

Carove. By Sarah Austin. Illustrated with Sixteen Original Water- 
Colour Drawings by E. V. B., printed in Fac-simile and numerous Illus¬ 
trations on wood. Small 4to. cloth extra, 12s.; or in morocco, 21s. 

*** Also a Large Paper Edition, with the Plates mounted (only 250 
copies printed), morocco, ivory inlaid, 31s. 6d. 

“ Nowhere will he find the Book of Nature more freshly and beautifully 
opened for him than in ‘ The Story without an End,’ of its kind one of the 
best that was ever written.’’ —Quarterly Review. 

Also, illustrated by the same Artist. 

Child’s Play. Printed in fac-simile from Water-Colour Drawings, 7s 6 d. 
Tennyson’s May Queen. Illustrated on Wood. Large Paper Edit. 7 s.6d. 


PEAKS AND VALLEYS OF THE ALPS. From Water¬ 
colour Drawings by Elijah Walton. Chromo-Lithographed by J. H. 
Lowes, with Descriptive Text by the Rev. T. G. Bonney, M. A., F.G.S. 
Folio, half morocco, with 21 large Plates. Original subscription 8 
guineas. A very limited edition only now issued at 42. 14s. Qd. 


9 


Sampson Low and Co.’s 


The Seven Churches of Asia. The result of Two Years'" Explo¬ 
ration of their Locality’and Remains. By Mr. A. Svoboda. With 20 full- 
page Photographs taken on the spot. Edited with a preface by the Rev. 
H. B. Tristram, F.L.S. 4to. cloth extra, price 2 guineas. 

“ Some time since we reviewed the photographs taken by Mr. Svoboda 
on the sites of the famous Christian cities of Asia Minor, and found in 
them much that teas interesting to the Biblical student and historian. We 
have in the well-printed volume before us twenty of these interesting illus¬ 
trations, whichfairly display the present state of the ruins so deeply connected 
with the early history of Christianity. Of these Smyrna supplies four, 
Ephesus five, Laodicea two, Hieropolis one, Sardis two, Philadelphia one. 
Magnesia Sypilusone, Thyatira one, and Pergamos three. To these the 
author has attached a carefully-written and very interesting series of 
accounts of the ruins and their history, taken from a popular and Scrip¬ 
tural point of view. Mr. Tristram has done his share of the tvork well, 
and edited a capital manual which is suited not only to general readers, 
but as a book of reference on a subject about which little is known, and 
that little not available without researches which ivould rival those of our 
author.” —Athenaeum. 


Christian Lyrics. Chiefly selected from Modern Authors. 138 
Poems, illustrated with upwards of 150 Engravings, under the superin¬ 
tendence of J. D. Cooper. Small 4to. cloth extra, 105. 6d. ; morocco, 21s. 


Illustrations of the Natural Order of Plants; with Groups and 
Descriptions. By Elizabeth Twining. Splendidly illustrated in colours 
from nature. Reduced from the folio edition. 2 vols. Royal 8vo. cloth 
extra, price 5 guineas. 


Choice Editions of Choice Books. New Editions. Illustrated by 
C. W. Cope, R. A., T. Creswick, R. A., Edward Duncan, Birket Foster, 
J. C. Horsley, A. R. A., George Hicks, R. Redgrave, R.A., C. Stonehouse, 
F. Tayler, George Thomas, H. J. Townshend, E. H. Wehnert, Har¬ 
rison Weir, &c. Crown 8vo. cloth, 5s. each; mor. 10s. 6d. 


Bloomfield’s Farmer’s Boy. 
Campbell’s Pleasures of Hope. 
Cundall’s Elizabethan Poetry. 
Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner. 
Goldsmith’s Deserted Village. 
Goldsmith’s Vicar of Wakefield 
Gray’s Elegy in a Churchyard. 


Keat’s Eve of St. Agnes. 

Milton’s l’Allegro. 

Rogers’ Pleasures of Memory. 
Shakespeare’s Songs and Sonnets. 
Tennyson’s May Queen. 

Weir’s Poetry of Nature. 
Wordsworth’s Pastoral Poems. 


Bishop Heber’s Hymns. An Illustrated Edition, with upwards 
of one hundred Designs. Engraved, in the first style of Art under the 
superintendence of J. D. Cooper. Small 4to. handsomely bound, price 
Half a Guinea; morocco, 21s. 

The Divine and Moral Songs of Dr. Watts: a New and very 
choice Edition. Illustrated with One Hundred Woodcuts in the first 
style of the Art, from Original Designs by Eminent Artists; engraved 
by J. D. Cooper. Small 4to. cloth extra, price 7s. 6d. ; morocco, 15s. 

Light after Darkness: Religious Poems by Harriet Beecher 

Stowe. With Illustrations. Small post 8vo. cloth, 3s. 6 d. 




List of Publications 


3 


Artists and Arabs; or Sketching in Sunshine. By Henry 
Blackburn, author of “ The Pyrenees,” &c. Numerous Illustrations 
Demy 8vo. cloth. 10s. 6d. 


The Pyrenees; 100 Illustrations hy Gustave Dore, and a De¬ 
scription of Summer Life at French Watering Places By Henry Black¬ 
burn. Royal 8vo. cloth, 18s.; morocco, 25s. 

Also by the same Author. 

Travelling in Spain, illustrated, 16s. or Cheaper Edition, 6s. 


Milton’s Paradise Lost. With the original Steel Engravings of 
John Martin. Printed on large paper, royal 4to. handsomely bound, 
3Z. 13s. 6 d. ; morocco extra, 51. 15s. Qd. 


lavourite English Poems. Complete Edition. Comprising a 
Collection of the most celebrated Poems in the English Language, with 
but one or two exceptions unabridged, from Chaucer to Tennyson. With 
300 Illustrations by the first Artists. Two vols. royal 8vo. half bound, 
top gilt, Roxburgh style, 1Z. 18s.; antique calf, 3 1. 3s. 


Schiller’s Lay of the Bell. Sir E. Bulwer Lytton’s translation ; 

beautifully illustrated by forty-two wood Engravings, drawn by Thomas 
Scott, and engraved by J. D. Cooper, after the Etchings by Retszch. 
Oblong 4to. cloth extra, 14s.; morocco, 25s. 


Edgar A. Poe’s Poems. Illustrated by Eminent Artists. Small 

4to. cloth extra, price 10s. 6 d. 


A New and Revised Edition of Mrs. Palliser’s Book of Lace, 
comprising a History of the Fabric from the Earliest Period, with up¬ 
wards of 100 Illustrations and Coloured Designs, including some In¬ 
teresting Examples from the Leeds Exhibition. By Mrs. Bury Palliser. 
1 vol. 8vo. cloth extra. [ Nearly ready. 


The Royal Cookery Book. By Jules Gouffe, Chef de Cuisine of 

the Paris Jockey Club. Translated and Adapted for English use. By 
Alphonse Grouffe, Head Pastrycook to Her Majesty the Queen. Illus¬ 
trated with large Plates beautifully printed in Colours, and One Hun¬ 
dred and Sixty-One Woodcuts. Super-royal 8vo. cloth extra, 21. 2s. 

%* Notice—Household Cheaper Edition. —The unanimous welcome ac¬ 
corded to “ The Royal Cookery Book” by all the leading reviews within 
the short time that has elapsed since its appearance, and the conviction 
that it is the cookery book for the age, induce the Publishers to issue 
for contemporaneous sale with this sumptuous presentation volume a 
Household Edition in one handsome large type book for domestic use. 
Price 10s. 6d., strongly half-bound. 





4 


Sampson Low and Co.'s 


The Bayard Series. 

CHOICE COMPANIONABLE PLEASURE BOOKS OF LITERATURE 
FOR CIRCULATION AT HOME AND ABROAD, 
COMPRISING 

HISTORY, BIOGRAPHY, TRAVEL, ESSAYS, NOVELETTES, ETC. 

Which, under careful editing, will be very choicely printed, with 
Vignette Title-page, Notes, and Index; the aim being to insure 
permanent value, as well as present attractiveness, and to render 
each volume an acquisition to the libraries of a new generation of 
readers. 16 mo. bound flexible in cloth extra, gilt edges, with 
silk head bands and registers. 

Each Volume, complete in itself, price Half-a-crown. 
THE STORY OF THE CHEVALIER BAYARD. From 

the French of the Loyal Servant, M. de Berville, and others. By E. 
Walford. With Introduction and Notes by the Editor. 

“ Praise of him must walk the earth 
For ever, and to noble deeds give birth. 

This is the happy warrior; this is he 

That every man in arms would wish to be.”— Wordsworth. 

SAINT LOUIS, KING OF FRANCE. The curious and 

characteristic Life of this Monarch by De Joinville. Translated by 
James Hutton. 

“ St. Louis and his companions, as described by Joinville, not only in 
their glistening armour , but in their every-day attire, are brought nearer 
to us, become intelligible to us, and teach us lessons of humanity which we 
can learn from men only, and not from saints and heroes. Here lies the 
real value of real history. It widens our minds and our hearts, and gives 
us that true knowledge of the world and of human nature in all its phases 
which but few can gain in the short span of their own life, and in the nar¬ 
row sphere of their friends and enemies. We can hardly imagine a better 
book for boys to read, or for men to ponder over ."—Times. 

THE ESSAYS OF ABRAHAM COWLEY. Comprising all 

his Prose Works; the Celebrated Character of Cromwell, Cutter of Cole¬ 
man Street, &c. &c. With Life, Notes, and Illustrations. 

“ Praised in his day as a great Poet; the head of the school of poets 
called metaphysical, he is now chiefly known by those prose essays, all too 
short, and all too few, which, whether for thought or for expression, have 
rarely been excelled by any writer in any language .”—Mary Russell 
Mitford’s Recollections. 

ABDALLAH AND THE FOUR-LEAVED SHAMROCK. 

By Edouard Laboullaye, of the French Academy. Translated by Mary 
L. Booth. 

One of the noblest and purest French stories ever w ritten. 



5 


List of Publications. 


The Bayard Series ,— 

TABLE-TALK AND OPINIONS OF NAPOLEON THE 

FIRST. 

A compilation from the best sources of this great man’s shreicd and 
often prophetic thoughts, forming the best inner life of the most extraordi¬ 
nary man of modern times. 

THE KING AND THE COMMONS: Cavalier and Puritan 

Poems. Selected and Arranged by Henry Morley, Professor of Litera¬ 
ture, London University. 

*** ft was in ivorking on this volume that Mr. Morley discovered the 
New Poem attributed to Milton. A facsimile of the Poem and Signature 
J. or P. M., with parallel passages, and the whole of the evidence, pro 
and con, is given in the prefatory matter. 


VATHEK. An Oriental Romance. By William Beckford. 

“ Bedford’s ‘ Vathek ’ is here presented as one of the beautifully got- 
up ivorks included in Messrs. Low and Co.’s * Bayard Series,’ every one 
of which is a gem, and the ‘ Caliph Vathek ’ is, perhaps, the gem of the 
collection .”—Illustrated Times. 

WORDS OF WELLINGTON. Maxims and Opinions, Sen¬ 
tences and Reflections, of the Great Duke, gathered from his Despatches, 
Letters and Speeches. Printed at the Chiswick Press, on toned paper, 
cloth extra, price 2s. 6 d. 

One of the best books that could be put into the hands of a youth to 
influence him for good .”—Notes and Queries. 

RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABYSSINIA. By Dr. Johnson. 

With Introduction by the Rev. William West, B.A. 

“ We are glad to welcome a reprint of a little book which a great master 
of English prose once said, ‘ will claim perhaps the first place in English 
composition for a model of grave and majestic language.’ It contains so 
many grave maxims, so many hints as to the conduct of life, and so much 
vigorous and suggestive thought, and shrewd insight into the f ollies and 
frailties, the greatness and iceakness of human nature, that it is just one 
of those books which, like ‘ Bacon’s Essays,’ we read again and again with 
ever-increasing profit and pleasure .”—Examiner. 


“ ‘ The Bayard Series ’ is a perfect marvel of cheapness and of exquisite 
taste in the binding and getting up. We hope and believe that these 
delicate morsels of choice literature will be widely and gratefully wel¬ 
comed .”—Nonconformist “ Every one of the works included in this series 
is well worth possessing, and the whole will make an admirable foundation 
for the library of a studious youth of polished and refined tastes .”— 
Illustrated Times. “ We have here tivo more volumes of the series ap¬ 
propriately called the ‘ Bayard,’ as they certainly are ‘sans reproche.’ 
Of convenient size, with clear typography, and tasteful binding, we know 
no other little volumes which make such good gift books for persons of 
mature age .”—Examiner. “ If the publishers go on as they have begun, 
they will have furnished us with one of the most valuable and attractive 
series of books that have ever been issued from the press .”—Sunday Times. 
“ There has, perhaps, never been produced anything more admirable, either 
as regards matter or manner .”—Oxford Times. 







6 


Sampson Low and Co.’s 


The Gentle Life Series. 

Printed in Elzevir, on Toned Paper, and handsomely bound, 
forming suitable Volumes for Presents. 

Price 6s. each; or in calf extra, price 10s. 6 d. 


I. 

THE GENTLE LIFE. Essays in Aid of the Formation of 

Character of Gentlemen and Gentlewomen. Ninth Edition. 

“ His notion of a gentleman is of the noblest and truest order. The 
volume is a capital specimen of ichat may be done by honest reason, 
high feeling, and cultivated intellect. A little compendium of cheerful 
philosophy .”—Daily News. “ Deserves to be printed in letters of gold, 
and circulated in every house.” —Chambers’s Journal. “ The writer’s 
object is to teach people to be truthful, sincere, generous: to be humble- 
minded, but bold in thought and action.” —Spectator. “ It is with the more 
satisfaction that we meet with a neiv essayist who delights without the 
smallest pedantry to quote the choicest wisdom of our forefathers, and 
who abides by those old-fashioned Christian ideas of duty which Steele and 
Addison, wits and men of the world, were not ashamed to set before the 
young Englishmen of 1713.”—London Review. 


II. 

ABOUT IN THE WOULD. Essays by the Author of “ The 

Gentle Life.” 

“ It is not easy to open it at any page without finding same happy idea.” 
Morning Post. “ Another characteristic merit of these essays is, that they 
make it their business, gently but firmly, to apply the qualifications and the 
corrections, which all philanthropic theories, all general rules or maxims, or 
principles, stand in need of before you can make them work .”—Literary 
Churchman. 


III. 

LIKE UNTO CHRIST. A new translation of the “ De Imita- 
tione Christi,” usually ascribed to Thomas k Kempis. With a Vignette 
from an Original Drawing by Sir Thomas Lawrence. Second Edition. 

“ Think of the little work of Thomas a Kempis, translated into a hundred 
languages, and sold by millions of copies, and which, in inmost moments 
of deep thought, men make the grade of their hearts, and the friend of 
their closets .”—Archbishop of York, at the Literary Fund, 1865. 

“ Evinces independent scholarship, a profound feeling for the original, 
and a minute attention to delicate shades of expression, which may well 
make it acceptable even to those who can enjoy the icork without a trans¬ 
lator’s aid.” —Nonconformist. “ Could not be presented in a more exquisite 
form, for a more sightly volume was never seen.’’—Illustrated London 
News. “ The preliminary essay is well-written, good, and interesting .”— 
Saturday Review. 






List of Publications. 


IV. 

FAMILIAR WORDS. An Index Verborum, or Quotation 

Handbook. Affording an immediate Reference to Phrases and Sentences 
that have become embedded in the English language. Second and en¬ 
larged Edition. 

“ Should be on every library table, by the side of ‘ Roget’s Thesaurus.’ ” 
—Daily News. “ Almost every familiar quotation is to be found in this 
work, which forms a book of reference absolutely indispensable to the lite¬ 
rary man, and of interest and service to the public generally. Mr. Friswell 
has our best tlianks for his painstaking, laborious, and conscientious 
work.” —City Press. 

V. 

ESSAYS BY MONTAIGNE. Edited, Compared, Revised,and 

Annotated by the Author of “ The Gentle Life.” With Vignette Portrait. 
Second Edition. 

“ We should be glad if any words of ours could help to bespeak a large 
circulation for this handsome attractive book; and who can refuse his 
homage to trie good-humoured industry of the editor.” —Illustrated Times. 
“ The reader really gets in a compact form all of the charming, chatty 
Montaigne that he needs to know.” —Observer. “ This edition is pure of 
questionable matter, and its perusal is calculated to enrich without cor¬ 
rupting the mind of the reader .”—Daily News. 

VI. 

THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE’S ARCADIA. Written 

by Sir Philip Sidney. Edited, with Notes,by the Author of“ The Gentle 
Life.” Dedicated, by permission, to the Earl of Derby. 7s. 6 d. 

“ All the best things in the Arcadia are retained intact in Mr. Friswell’s 
edition, and even brought into greater prominence than in the original, by 
the curtailment of some of its inferior portions, and the omission of most of 
its eclogues and other metrical digressions ” —Examiner. “ It was in itself 
a thing so interesting as a development of English literature, that we are 
thankful to Mr. Friswell for reproducing, in a veiny elegant volume, the 
chief work of the gallant and chivalrous, the gay yet learned knic/ht, who 
patronized the muse of Spenser, and fell upon the bloody field of Zutphen, 
leaving behind him a light of heroism and humane compassion which would 
shed an eternal glory on his name, though all he ever wrote had perished 
with himself.” —London Review. 


VII. 

THE GENTLE LIFE. Second Series. Third Edition. 

“ There is the same mingled power and simplicity which makes the 
author so emphatically a first-rate essayist, giving a fascination in each 
essay which will make this volume at least as popular as its elder brother.” 
—Star. “ These essays are amongst the best in our language .”—Public 
Opinion. 

VIII. 

VARIA : Readings from Rare Books. Reprinted, by permis¬ 

sion, from the Saturday Review, Spectator, &c. 

“ The books discussed in this volume are no less valuable than they are 
rare, but life is not long enough to allow a reader to wade through such 
thick folios, and therefore the compiler is entitled to the ratitude of the 
public for having sifted their contents,and thereby rendered their treasures 
available to the general reader.” —Observer. 




8 


Sampson Low and Co's. 


IX. 

A CONCORDANCE OR VERBAL INDEX to the whole of 

Milton’s Poetical Works. Comprising upwards of 20,000 References. 
By Charles D. Cleveland, LL.D. With Vignette Portrait of Milton. 

*** This work affords an immediate reference to any passage in any 
edition of Milton’s Poems, to which it may be justly termed an indis¬ 
pensable Appendix. 

“ By the admirers of Milton the book will be highly appreciated , but its 
chief value will, if we mistake not , be found in the fact that it is a compact 
word-book of the English language .”—Record. “ An invaluable Index, 
which the publishers have done a public service in reprinting .”—Notes and 
Queries. 


X. 

THE SILENT HOUR: Essa}'s, Original and Selected. By 

the Author of “ The Gentle Life.” Second Edition. 

“ Out of twenty Essays five are from the Editor’s pen, and he has se¬ 
lected the rest from the writings of Barrow, Baxter, Sherlock, Massillon, 
Latimer, Sanays, Jeremy Taylor, Buskin, and lzaac Walton. The se¬ 
lections have been made with taste and judgment, and the Editor’s own 
contributions are not unworthy in themselves of a place in such dis¬ 
tinguished company. The volume is avowedly meant’ for Sunday reading, 
and those who have not access to the originals of great authors may do 
worse on Sunday or any other afternoon, than fall back upon the ‘ Silent 
Hour’ and the golden words of Jeremy Taylor and Massillon. All who 
possess the ‘ Gentle Life’ should own this volume .”—Standard. 

XI. 

ESSAYS ON ENGLISH WRITERS, for the Self-improve¬ 

ment of Students in English Literature. 

“ The author has a distinct purpose and a proper and noble ambition to 
win the young to the pure and noble study of our glorious English literature. 
The book is too good intrinsically not to command a wide and increasing 
circulation, and its style is so pleasant and lively that it will find many 
readers among the educated classes, as well as among self-helpers. To all 
(both men and women ) who have neglected to read and study their native 
literature we would certainly suggest the volume before us as a fitting in¬ 
troduction . ’ ’—E xam i n er. 


XII. 

OTHER PEOPLE’S WINDOWS. By J. Hain Friswell. 

Second Edition. 

“ The old project of a window in the bosom to render the soul of man 
visible, is what every honest fellow has a manifold reason to wish 
for .”—Pope’s Letters, Dec. 12, 1718. 

“ The chapters are so lively in themselves, so mingled icith shrewd views 
of human nature, so full of illustrative anecdotes, that the reader cannot 
fail to be amused. Written with remarkable power and effect. ‘ Other 
People’s Windows ’ is distinguished by original and keen observation of 
life , as well as by lively and versatile power of narration .”—Morning Post. 
“ We have not read a cleverer or more entertaining book for a long time.” 
Observer. “ Some of the little stories are very graceful and tender, but 
Mr. Friswell*s style is always bright and pleasant, and ‘ Other People’s 
Windoivs ’ is just the book to lie upon the drawing-room table, and be read 
by snatches at idle moments .”—Guardian. 






List of Publications 


9 


LITERATURE, WORKS OF REFERENCE, ETC. 

SfHE Origin and History of the English Language, and 
of the early literature it embodies. By the Hon. George P. 
Marsh. U. S. Minister at Turin, Author of “ Lectures on the 
English Language.” 8vo. cloth extra, 16s. 



Lectures on the English Language; forming the Introductory 
Series to the foregoing Work. By the same Author. 8vo. Cloth, 16 a. 
This is the only authox - ’s edition. 


Man and Nature; or, Physical Geography as Modified by Human 
Action. By George P. Marsh, Author of “ Lectures on the English Lan¬ 
guage,” &c. 8vo. cloth, 14s. 

“ Mr. Marsh, well known as the author of two of the most scholarly 
works yet published on the English language, sets himself in excellent 
spirit, and ivith immense learning, to indicate the character, and, approxi¬ 
mately, the extent of the changes produced by human action in the physical 
condition of the globe ice inhabit. The wfiole of Mr. Marsh’s book is an 
eloquent showing of the duty of care in the establishment of harmony 
between man’s life and the forces of nature, so as to bring to their highest 
points the fertility of the soil, the vigour of the animal life, and the salubrity 
of the climate, on which we have to depend for the physical well-being of 
mankind.” —Examiner. 


Her Majesty’s Mails: a History of the Post Office, and an 
Industrial Account of its Present Condition. By Wm. Lewins, of the 
General Post Office. 2nd Edition, revised and enlarged, with a Photo¬ 
graphic Portrait of Sir Rowland Hill. Small post Svo. 6s. 

A History of Banks for Savings ; including a full account of the 
origin and progress of Mr. Gladstone’s recent prudential measures. By 
William Lewins, Author of “ Her Majesty’s Mails.” 8vo. cloth. 12s. 

The English Catalogue of Books: giving the date of publication 
of every book published from 18-35 to 1863, in addition to the title, size, 
price, and publisher, in one alphabet. An entirely new work, combining 
the Copyrights of the “ London Catalogue ” and the “ British Catalogue.” 
One thick volume of 900 pages, half morocco. 45s. 

*** The Annual Catalogue of Books published during 1868 with Index 
of Subjects. 8vo. 5s. 

Index to the Subjects of Books published in the United Kingdom 
during the last Twenty Years—1837-1857. Containing as many as 74,000 
references, under subjects, so as to ensure immediate reference to the 
books on the subject required, each giving title, price, publisher, and 
date. Two valuable Appendices are also given—A, containing full lists 
of all Libraries, Collections, Series, and Miscellanies—and B, a List of 
Literary Societies, Printing Societies, and their Issues. One vol. royal 
8vo. Morocco, 1/. 6s. 

*** Volume II. from 1857 in Preparation. 

Outlines of Moral Philosophy. By Dugald Stewart, Professor 
of Moral Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh, with Memoir, &c. 
By James McCosh, LL.D. New Edition, 12mo. 3s. 6d .. 




10 


Sampson Low and Co.’s 


A Dictionary of Photography, on the Basis of Sutton’s Dictionary. 
Rewritten by Professor Dawson, of King’s College, Editor of the “ Journal 
of Photography;” and Thomas Sutton, B.A., Editor of “Photograph 
Notes.” 8vo. with numerous Illustrations. 8s. 6d. 

Dr. Worcester’s New and Greatly Enlarged Dictionary of the 
English Language. Adapted for Library or College Reference, compris¬ 
ing 40,000 Words more than Johnson’s Dictionary. 4to. cloth, 1,834 pp. 
price 3is. 6d. well bound. 

“ The volumes before us show a vast amount of diligence; but with 
Webster it is diligence in combination with fancifulness,—with Wor¬ 
cester in combination with good sense and judgment. Worcester’s is the 
soberer and safer book,and maybe pronounced the best existing English 
Lexicon.”— Athenaeum. 

4 

The Publishers’ Circular, and General Record of British and 
Foreign Literature; giving a transcript of the title-page of every work 
published in Great Britain, and every work of interest published abroad, 
with lists of all the publishing houses. 

Published regularly on the 1st and 15th of every Month, and forwarded 
post free to all parts of the world on payment of 8s. per annum. 

A Handbook to the Charities of London. By Sampson Low, 
Jun. Comprising an Account of upwards of 800 Institutions chiefly in 
London and its Vicinity. A Guide to the Benevolent and to the Unfor¬ 
tunate. Cloth limp, Is. 6d. 

Prince Albert’s Golden Precepts. Second Edition, with Photo¬ 
graph. A Memorial of the Prince Consort; comprising Maxims and 
Extracts from Addresses of His late Royal Highness. Many now for 
the first time collected and carefully arranged. With an Index. Royal 
16mo. beautifully printed on toned paper, cloth, gilt edges, 2s. 6d. 


Our Little Ones in Heaven: Thoughts in Prose and Verse, se 
lected from the Writings of favourite Authors; with Frontispiece after 
Sir Joshua Reynolds. Fcap. 8vo. cloth extra. Second Edition. 3s. 6 d. 


BIOGRAPHY, TRAVEL, AND ADVENTURE. 



HE Lite of John James Audubon, the Naturalist, in¬ 
cluding his Romantic Adventures in the back woods of 
America, Correspondence with celebrated Europeans, &e. 
Edited, from materials supplied by his widow, by Robert Bu¬ 
chanan. 8vo. With portraits, price 15s. 


“ A readable book, with many interesting and some thrilling pages in 
it.” —Athenaeum. “ From first to last, the biography teems with interesting 
adventures, with amusing or perilous incidents, with curious gossip, with 
picturesque description.”— Daily News. “ But, as we have said, Audubon 
could write as well as draw; and while his portfolio was a cause of wonder 
to even such men as Cuvier, Wilson, and Sir Thomas Lawrence, \his diary 
contained a number of spirited sketches of the places he had visited, which 
cannot fail to interest and even to delight the reader.”— Examiner. 





List of Publications. 


11 


Leopold the First, King of the Belgians; from unpublished 

documents, by Theodore Juste. Translated by Robert Black, M.A 

“ A readable biography of the ivise and good King Leopold is certain to 
be read in England .”—Daily News. “ A more important contribution to 
historical literature has not for a long while been furnished.” —Bell’s 
Messenger. “ Of great value to the future historian, and will interest 
politicians even now.” —Spectator. “ The subject is of interest, and the 
story is narrated without excess of enthusiasm or depreciation. The trans¬ 
lation by Mr. Black is executed with correctness, yet not without a grace¬ 
ful ease. This end is not often attained in translations so nearly verbal as 
this; the book itself deserves to become popular in England.” —Athenaeum. 

Fredrika Bremer’s Life, Letters, and Posthumous Works. 
Edited by her sister, Charlotte Bremer; translated from the Swedish 
by Fred. Milow. Post 8vo. cloth. 10s. Cd. 

The Rise and Fall of the Emperor Maximilian: an Authentic 
History of the Mexican Empire, 1861-7. Together with the Imperial 
Correspondence. With Portrait, 8vo. price 10s. 6c!. 

Madame Recamier, Memoirs and Correspondence of. Trans¬ 
lated fi’om the French and edited by J. M. Luyster. With Portrait. 
Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d. 

Plutarch’s Lives. An entirely new Library Edition, carefully 
revised and corrected, with some Original Translations by the Editor. 
Edited by A. H. Clough, Esq. sometime Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford, 
and late Professor of English Language and Literature at University 
College. 5 vols. 8vo. cloth. 21. 10s. 

Social Life of the Chinese: a Daguerreotype of Daily Life in 
China. Condensed from the Work of the Rev. J. Doolittle, by the Rev. 
Paxton Hood. With above 100 Illustrations. Post 8vo. price 8s. 6 d. 

The Open Polar Sea: a Narrative of a Voyage of Discovery 
towards the North Pole. By Dr. Isaac I. Hayes. An entirely new and 
cheaper edition. With Illustrations. Small post 8vo. 6s. 

The Physical Geography of the Sea and its Meteorology ; or, the 
Economy of the Sea and its Adaptations, its Salts, its Waters, its Climates, 
its Inhabitants, and whatever there may be of general interest in its Com¬ 
mercial Uses or Industrial Pursuits. By Commander M. F. Maury, LL.D 
New Edition. With Charts. Post 8vo. cloth extra. 

Captain Hall’s Life with the Esquimaux. New and cheaper 
Edition, with Coloured Engravings and upwards of 100 Woodcuts. With 
a Map. Price 7s. 6d. cloth extra. Forming the cheapest and most popu¬ 
lar Edition of a work on Arctic Life and Exploration ever published. 

Christian Heroes in the Army and Navy. By Charles Rogers, 

LL.D. Author of “ Lyra Britannica.” Crown 8vo. 3s. 6 d. 

The Black Country and its Green Border Land; or, Expedi¬ 
tions and Explorations round Birmingham, Wolverhampton, &c. By 
Elihu Burritt. Second and cheaper edition, post 8vo. 6s. 

A Walk from London to John O’Groats, and from London to 
the Land’s End and Back. With Notes by the Way. By Elihu Burritt. 
Two vols. price 6s. each, with Illustrations. 



12 


Sampson Low and Cods 


The Voyage Alone; a Sail in the “ Yawl, Rob Roy.” By John 

M‘Gregor. With Illustrations. Price 5s. 


Also, uniform, by the same Author, with Maps and numerous Illus¬ 
trations, price 5s. each. 

A Thousand Miles in the Rob Roy Canoe, on Rivers and Lakes of 
Europe. Fifth edition. 

The Rob Roy on the Baltic. A Canoe Voyage in Norway, Sweden, &c. 


NEW BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 

ILD Life under the Equator. By Paul Du Chaillu, 
Author of “ Discoveries in Equatorial Africa.” With 40 
Original Illustrations, price 6s. 

“ M. du Chaillu’s name will be a sufficient guarantee for the interest of 
Wild Life under the Equator, which he has narrated for young people in 
a very readable volume." —Times. “ M. Du Chaillu proves a good writer 
for the young, and he has skilfully utilized his experience for their benefit." 
—Economist. “ The author possesses an immense advantage over other 
ivriters of Adventures for boys, and this is secure for a popular run: it 
is at once light. racy, and attractive .’'—Illustrated Times. 

Also by the same Author, uniform. 

Stories of the Gorilla Country, 36 Illustrations. Price 6s. 

“ It would be hard to find a more interesting book for boys than this ."— 
Times. “ Young people will obtain from it a very considerable amount 
of information touching the manners and customs, ways and means of 
Africans, and of course great amusement in the accounts of the Gonlla. 
The book is really a meritorious work, and is elegantly got up .’’—Athenaeum. 

Cast Away in the Cold. An Old Man’s Story of a Young Man’s 
Adventures. By the Author of “The Open Polar Sea.” With Illus¬ 
trations. Small 8vo. cloth extra, price 6s. 

“ The result is delightful. A story of adventure of the most telling 
local colour and detail, the most exciting danger, and ending with the most 
natural and effective escape. There is an air of veracity and reality 
about the tale which Capt. Hayes could scarcely help giving to an Arctic 
adventure of any kind. There is great vivacity and picturesqueness in 
the style, the illustrations are admirable, and there is a novelty in the 
‘ denouement ’ which greatly enhances the pleasure with ichich we lay the 
book doivn. This story of the two Arctic Crusoes will long remain one of 
the most powerful of children’s stories, as it assuredly deserves to be one 
of the most popular ."—Spectator. 

The Silver Skates; a Story of Holland Life. By Mrs. M. A. 

Dodge. Edited by W. H. G. Kingston. Illustrated, cloth extra, 3s. 6 d. 

The Voyage of the Constance; a tale of the Polar Seas. By 
Mary Gillies. With 8 Illustrations by Charles Keene. Fcap. 3s. 6d. 






List of Publications. 


13 


Life amongst the North and South American Indians. By 
George Gatlin. And Last Rambles amongst the Indians beyond the 
Rocky Mountains and the Andes. With numerous Illustrations by the 
Author. 2 vols. small post 8vo. 5s. each, cloth extra. 

“ An admirable book, full of useful information, wrapt up in stories 
peculiarly adapted to rouse the imagination and stimulate the curiosity of 
boys and girls. To compare a book with ‘ Robinson Crusoe’ and to say 
that it sustains such comparison, is to give it high praise indeed .’’— 

Athenaeum. 

Our Salt and Fresh Water Tutors ; a Story of that Good Old 
Time—Our School Days at the Cape. Edited by W. H. G. Kingston. 
With Illustrations, price 3s. 6d. 

“ One of the best books of the kind that the season has given us. This 
little book is to be commenaed warmly .”—Illustrated Times. 

The Boy’s Own Book of Boats. A Description of every Craft 
that sails upon the waters; and how to Make, Rig, and Sail Model 
Boats, by W. H. G. Kingston, with numerous Illustrations by E. Weedon. 
Second edition, enlarged. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. 

“ This well-written , well-wrought book.” —Athenaeum. 

Also by the same Author, 

Ernest Bracebridge; or, Boy’s Own Book of Sports. 3s. 6d. 

The Fire Ships. A Story of the Days of Lord Cochrane. 5s. 

The Cruise of the Frolic, os. 

Jack Buntline: the Life of a Sailor Boy. 2s. 

The Autobiography of a Small Boy. By the Author of <£ School 

Days at Saxonhui’st.” Fcap. 8vo. cloth, 5s. [Nearly ready. 

Also now ready. 

Alwyn Morton, his School and his Schoolfellows. 5s. 

Stanton Grange; or, Life at a Tutor’s. By the Rev. C. J. Atkinson. 5s. 

Phenomena and Laws of Heat: a Volume of Marvels of Science. 
By Achille Cazin. Translated and Edited by Elihu Rich. With 
numerous Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo. price 5s. 

Also, uniform, same price. 

Marvels of Optics. By F. Marion. Edited and Translated by C. W. 
Quin. With 70 Illustrations. 5s. 

Marvels of Thunder and Lightning. By De Fonvielle. Edited by Dr. 
Phipson. Full of Illustrations. 5s. 

Stories of the Great Prairie. From the Novels of J. F. Cooper. 

Illustrated. Brice 5s. 

Also, uniform, same price. 

Stories of the Woods, from the Adventures of Leather-Stocking. 

Stories of the Sea, from Cooper’s Naval Novels. 

The Voyage of the Constance. By Mary Gillies. 3s. od. 

The Swiss Family Robinson, and Sequel. In 1 vol. 3s. 6d. 

The Story Without an End. Translated by Sarah Austin. 2s. 6a. 




14 


Sampson Low and Cods 


Under the Waves; or the Hermit Crab in Society. By Annie 
E. Ridley. Impl. 16mo. cloth extra, with coloured illustration Cloth, 
4s.; gilt edges, 4s. 6cL 

Also beautifully Illustrated :— 

Little Bird Red and Little Bird Blue. Coloured, 5s. 

Snow-Flakes, and what they told the Children. Coloured, 5s. 

Child’s Book of the Sagacity of Animals. 5s.; or coloured, 7s. 6d. 

Child’s Picture Fable Book. 5s.; or coloured, 7s. 6d. 

Child’s Treasury of Story Books. 5s.; or coloured, 7s. 6d. 

The Nursery Playmate. 200 Pictures. 5s.; or coloured, 9s. 

Adventures on the Great Hunting-Grounds of the World. From 
the Frence of Victor Meunier. With additional matter, including the 
Duke of Edinburgh’s Elephant Hunt, &c. With 22 Engravings, 
price 5s. 

“ The book for all boys in whom the love of travel and adventure is 
strong. They ivill find here plenty to amuse them and much to instruct 
them besides .”—Times. 


Also, lately published , 

One Thousand Miles in the Rob Roy Canoe. By John Macgregor, M.A. 5s. 
The Rob Roy on the Baltic. By the same Author. 5s. 

Sailing Alone; or, 1,500 Miles Voyage in the Yawl Rob Roy. By the 
same Author. 5s. 

Golden Hair; a Tale of the Pilgrim Fathers. By Sir Lascelles Wraxall. 5s. 
Black Panther : a Boy’s Adventures amongst the Red Skins. By the 
same Author. 5s. 

Anecdotes of the Queen and Royal Family of England. Collected, 
arranged, and edited, for the more especial use of Colonial Readers, by 
J. George Hodgins, LL.B , F.R.G.S., Deputy-Superintendent of Educa¬ 
tion for the Province of Ontario. With Illustrations. Price 5s. 

Geography for my Children. By Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe. 
Author of “ Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” &c. Arranged and Edited by an Eng¬ 
lish Lady, under the Direction of the Authoress. With upwards of Fifty 
Illustrations. Cloth extra, 4s. <kl. 

Child’s Play. Illustrated with Sixteen Coloured Drawings by 
E. V. B., printed in fac-simile by W. Dickes’ process, and ornamented 
with Initial Letters. New edition, with India paper tints, royal 8vo. 
cloth extra, bevelled cloth, 7s. 6d. The Original Edition of this work 
was published at One Guinea. 

Little Gerty; or, the First Prayer, selected and abridged from 
“ The Lamplighter.” By a Lady. Price 6 d. Particularly adapted 
for a Sunday School Gift Book. 


Great Fun and More Fun for our Little Friends. By Harriet 

Myrtle. With Edward Wehnert’s Pictures. 2 vols. each 5s. 






List of Publications. 


15 


BELLES LETTRES, FICTION, &c. 

HE LOG OF MY LEISURE HOURS: a Story of 

Real Life. By an Old Sailor. 3vols. post 8vo. 24s. 

“ 7 / people do not read « The Log ’ it will have failed as 
regards them ; but it is a success in every sense of the word as 
regards its author. It deserves to succeed.'’— Morning Post. 

David Gray ; and other Essays, chiefly on Poetry. By Robert 

Buchanan. In one vol. fcap. 8vo. price 6s. 

The Book of the Sonnet; being Selections, with an Essay on 
Sonnets and Sonneteers. By the late Leigh Hunt. Edited, from the 
original MS. with Additions, by S. Adams Lee. 2 vols. price 18s. 

“ Reading a book of this sort should make us feel-proud of our language 
and of our literature, and proud also of that cultivated common nature 
which can raise so many noble thoughts and images out of this hard , sullen 
world into a thousand enduring forms of beauty. The * Book of the Son¬ 
net ’ should be a classic, and the professor as well as the student of English 
will find it a work of deep interest and completeness." —London Review. 

Lyra Sacra Americana: Gems of American Poetry, selected 
with Notes and Biographical Sketches by C. D. Cleveland, D.D., Author 
of the “ Milton Concordance.” 18mo., cloth, gilt edges. Price 4s. 6d. 

Poems of the Inner Life. Selected chiefly from modern Authors, 

by permission. Small post 8vo. 6s.; gilt edges, 6s. (kl. 

English and Scotch Ballads, &c. An extensive Collection. 
With Notices of the kindred Ballads of other Nations. Edited by F. J. 
Child. 8 vols. fcap. cloth, 3s. 6d. each 

The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table. By Oliver Wendell 
Holmes, LL.D. Popular Edition, Is. Illustrated Edition, choicely 
printed, cloth extra, 6s. 

The Professor at the Breakfast Table. By Oliver Wendell Holmes, 
Author of “The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table.” Cheap Edition, 
fcap. 3s. 6d. 

Bee-keeping. By “ The Times ” Bee-master. Small post 8vo. 

numerous illustrations, cloth, 5s. 

“ Our friend the Bee-master has the knack of exposition, and knows how 
to tell a story well; over and above which, he tells a story so that thousands 
can take a practical, and not merely a speculative interest in it.” —Times. 

Queer Little People. By the Author of “ Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” 

Fcap. Is. Also by the same Author. 

The Little Foxes that Spoil the Grapes, Is. 

House and Home Papers, Is. 

The Pearl of Orr’s Island, Illustrated by Gilbert, os. 

The Minister’s Wooing. Illustrated by Phiz, 5s. 









16 Sampson Low and Co.’s List of Publications. 



The Story of Four Little Women: Meg, Joe, Beth, and Amy. 

By Louisa M. Alcott. With Illustrations. 16mo, cloth 35. fid. 

“ A bright, cheerful, healthy story—with a tinge of thoughtful gravity 
about it which reminds one of John JBunyan. Meg going to J unity Fair 
is a chapter written with great cleverness and a pleasant humour .”— 
Guardian. 

Also, Entertaining Stories for Young Ladies, 3 s. fid. each, cloth, gilt edges. 

Helen Felton’s Question: a Book for Girls. By Agnes Wylde. 

Faith Gartney's Girlhood. By Mrs. I). T. Whitney. Seventh thousand. 
The Gayworthys. By the same Author. Third Edition. 

A Summer in Leslie Goldthwaite’s Life. By the same Author. 

The Masque at Ludlow. By the Author of “ Mary Powell.” 

Miss Biddy Frobisher: a Salt Water Story. By the same Author. 
Selvaggio; a Story of Italy. By the same Author. New Edition. 

The Journal of aWaiting Gentlewoman. By a new Author. New Edition 
The Shady Side and the Sunny Side. Two Tales of New England. 

Marian; or, the Light of Some One’s Home. By Maud Jeanne 

Franc. Small post Svo., 5s. 

Also, by the same Author. 

Emily’s Choice : an Australian Tale. 5s. 

Vermont Vale: or, Home Pictures in Australia. 5s. 

Tauchnitz's English Editions of German Authors. Each volume 

cloth flexible, 2s. ; or sewed, Is. fid. The following are now ready :— 

1. On the Heights. By B. Auerbach. 3 vols. 

2. In the Year ’13. By Fritz Reuter. 1 vol. 

3. Faust. By Goethe. 1 vol. 

4. Undine, and other Tales. By Fouque. 1 vol. 

5 L’Ai’rabiata. By Paul Heyse. 1 vol. 

6. The Princess, and other Tales. By Heinrich Zschokke. 1 vol. 

7. Lessing’s Nathan the Wise. 

8. Hacklander’s Behind the Counter, translated by Mary Howitt. 

Low's Copyright Cheap Editions of American Authors. A 
thoroughly good and cheap series of editions, which, whilst combining 
every advantage that can be secured by the best workmanship at the 
lowest possible rate, will possess an additional claim on the reading 
public by providing for the remuneration of the American author and 
the legal protection of the English publisher. Ready :— 

1. Haunted Hearts. By the Author of “ The Lamplighter.” 

2. The Guardian Angel. By “ The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table.” 

3. The Minister’s Wooing. By the Author of “ Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” 

To be followed by a New Volume on the first of every alternate month. 
Each complete in itself, printed from new type, with Initial Letters aud Orna¬ 
ments, and published at the low price of Is. fid. stiff cover, or 2s. cloth. 


LONDON : SAMPSON LOW, SON, AND MAKSTON, 

CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET. 

English, American, and Colonial Booksellers and Publishers. 


Chiswick Press:—Whittingham and Wilkins, Tooks Court, Chancery Lane- 










w 












\ 


























